A Storybook Murder
by Bob The Other Zombie
Summary: It's that time of year again, and Oz has invited multiple characters from several different series to the Grand Annual Character Conference, full of food and drink and mind-numbingly boring conversation...which makes it all the more surprising when the lights go out, the doors lock, and the bodies start hitting the floor. Who is the murderer? What is their motive? Will Max survive?
1. The GACC

Oz, faux wizard, designer of the Emerald City, former ruler of Oz, and avid balloonist, was currently performing one of the more trivial duties of his former job- organizing a social event.

A conference, to be exact. Every year for the last ten years, Oz hosted the Grand Annual Conference for Characters (GACC for short), in which characters from all sorts of stories gathered at his house on Earth for conversation, good food, and drinks. This year, however, the wizard was disappointed to find attendance was way down. As far as he knew, there were only eighteen characters besides himself and Glinda attending, and most of them were from the same seven stories who came every year.

The balloonist stiffened and turned, as he heard footsteps enter his study. "Oh, Glinda, it's you. Jesus, you scared me." He mopped his forehead, relieved.

Glinda smiled as she walked further into the room. "I've been working for you for years, Oz, and yet you never seem to remember I'm here."

"Must be the house." Oz said. "Such a big house. I've never seen the use for it all, with just us two here."

"Only fitting for the former ruler of Oz." Glinda said, placing her soft hands on his shoulders.

Oz leaned back with a groan. He had been hunched over his desk planning for far too long. "Glinda, you are too good. Why you ever left the land of Oz for me, I'll never know."

Glinda gently kneaded his back. "I've told you. The Scarecrow couldn't do a thing, and I just...didn't want to watch it all fall apart."

"So you decided you'd rather be my housekeeper?" Oz said, turning his head to smile up at her.

Glinda beamed back coyly. "You know that's not all I came for."

The two held each other's gaze for a moment, and then the wizard turned back to his desk. "So remind me, housekeeper," he murmured, feeling something pop in his back as Glinda continued her ministrations, "who is coming to this infernal conference?"

"The Everdeen sisters from Panem, Thomas Doyle and Felicity Worthington from England, Draco Malfoy and Sirius Black from London, Fenoglio and Mortola from Italy, Eowyn and Gollum from Middle Earth, and the Mad Hatter and the Queen of Hearts from Wonderland." Glinda recited. "Oh yes, and Maximum Ride and her flock of six."

"Six? Weren't there seven members last year? Max, Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, Angel, and Total, right?"

"Yes, but Total left the flock, so he's not attending. He's married now."

"Thank God. I've heard enough dogs' rights remarks to last me a lifetime." The second part of her statement hit him and he twisted around in his seat. "Married? Who does a flying, talking, _dog_ marry?"

"Another dog, Oz. And there's another thing- Fang left the flock too."

"Fang? He the strong, silent one who reeked of movie star? They both left, huh?" Oz snickered, a thought hitting him. "I can just see the poster at the cinema now- silhouettes of a winged boy and dog, walking amid a dramatic landscape into the sunset." He spread his arms wide. "The tagline could be something man's best friend, or maybe something being faithful. Get me a pen and paper, Glinda, I need to write this all down before I forget!"

Glinda, wisely, chose to ignore him. "They still have six members, though. They've been joined by another mutant- a boy named Dylan."

"He a flying human too?" Oz asked. Glinda nodded, and Oz slapped his forehead."Jesus, aren't there enough of those beasts in the world as it is? Rude, the whole lot of them, and last year they ate twice as much as the rest of the guests combined. That reminds me, Glinda, are you willing to take care of the food for the conference, like you did last year?"

"Of course I am, Oz." Glinda replied, pecking him on the cheek. "I'll just go and get started now, all right?" She sashayed out of the room, leaving the wizard gazing after her swinging hips.

* * *

We reached Oz's Earth mansion at about half past five, thirty minutes before the party was supposed to start. Despite this, the large, Victorian-style mansion was lit up like a Jack-o-lantern, and small crowd had gathered on the lawn by the elegantly carved double doors. I scanned them quickly as our feet grazed the lawn. It was silly, yes, but I had hoped there would be a certain person among them tonight. A certain winged person...

"I'll try to sense his mind once we're inside." Angel reassured me, taking my hand. I forced a smile. It had been nine months since Fang left, and, while I was able to keep living my life (mostly) the way it had always been, I still looked for his dark figure wherever I went. It was the main reason I came to this party. I didn't like Oz, that was for sure. He was too stuffy for my tastes.

As soon as I thought it, the man himself came striding across the lawn towards us with one arm outstretched, wearing a smile as false as his powers. On his other arm was Glinda, his housekeeper/possible squeeze. I could never figure out what was up with those two, but whatever it was, it was gross.

As Oz drew closer, I pasted another fake smile on my face and prepared for a tedious conversation about nothing but pleasantries. This was going to be a long party.

* * *

Thomas Doyle grumbled under his breath as he watched Felicity Worthington. She had been walking way ahead of him for the past five minutes of their journey to Oz's Earth mansion, without bothering to see if he was following.

"Irritating woman. _Far _too bold." he muttered. Still Felicity didn't look back, her blond hair swinging and flashing in the mottled sunlight streaming down through the trees. Why did Oz have to live in a clearing in the middle of the woods, anyways? Why couldn't he have lived in London, or at the very least a city- someplace where they could have taken a cab? No, of course he had to be in the middle of the woods in Florida, where everything was so bloody hot and inhospitable.

He supposed he should be glad Gemma didn't want to come. Felicity was so much worse when his sister was around. True, they were no longer irritatingly secretive- he knew about the realms now- but still, women should not take themselves as seriously as Felicity and Gemma did. Women especially should not abandon a cozy life with a good husband to travel to some far-off country and go to college, of all places_. _He still didn't know what was going on in Father's head when he approved it. Probably the same old father-daughter routine.

Finally, the thick canopy of trees dwindled enough for Tom to see the mansion. It was impressive, in its way, a grand old thing that reminded him of Grandmother's country estate. He examined the crowd that was spilling out on the lawn. While America was certainly no place to find a wife of the caliber Tom liked, there was no harm in looking.

There were a few women there who were obviously past their marrying age- a bony woman with hair severely pulled back and a large, beak like nose (she almost reminded Tom of a magpie), and another with violently scarlet hair and a dress with a pattern of hearts on it. Both were standing off to one side, sending unpleasant glares at anyone who dared to make eye contact. Tom shivered- they had the look of bitter spinsters, alone for life because of some big scandal in their season. He decided he wanted nothing to do with them.

On another part of the lawn, talking to a blonde woman in a shimmery red dress, were six winged children. There were three girls among them, two of them attractive enough to make Tom stop and think, but he decided against it- there was no way he was going to bring a winged wife home with him to London. American wives were bad enough.

The blonde woman was compelling, however. She was obviously rich, as evident by her dress and shining ruby necklace, and more attractive than even the oldest of the bird kids. She clearly possessed social graces, too- she smiled constantly as she talked to the winged kids, and they didn't look too amusing. The woman, however, was practically attached to Oz's arm. She was definitely off-limits. Stealing the host's lady was never good form.

A few meters away was a pair of girls, one older, one younger. The older one had dark hair and gray eyes, while the younger one was blonde and pale, but otherwise they appeared to be sisters. The duo could be pretty, Tom supposed, if not for their haunted eyes, hollow cheeks, and primitive clothing- poverty did not make wife material.

The only other woman he could see was another blonde, with long, streaming hair. She looked to be about his age, and rich, too, but there was a fierce air about her that Tom didn't like. She reminded him of Gemma when she was using her powers, actually...and was that a dagger sheath at her belt?

Felicity, of course, noticed the dagger immediately and headed over to greet the woman. Tom rolled his eyes and made his way over to where the men were standing- a man with long, shaggy hair and a rugged face, a haughty-looking pale blonde, a turtle-like older gentleman, and another man with a large colorful hat and flamboyant clothing. The last man appeared to be very twitchy, always straightening his coat, blinking rapidly, and tapping one foot against the ground.

"Hello," Tom said politely as he walked up. "I'm Thomas Doyle, from London."

The blonde boy turned away, and the shaggy-haired man sighed. "I'm Sirius Black," he said, shaking Tom's hand, "and this git is Draco Malfoy."

The turtle-like man also accepted Tom's handshake. "Fenoglio, from Italy." he said, smiling. On closer inspection, Fenoglio appeared to be in his sixties, easily the oldest person at the party, but there was still strength in his handshake and in his gaze. Tom returned his warm smile.

The twitchy man said nothing, only nodded and picked at a button on his tattered coat.

Although Fenoglio and Black were friendly, it was clear this group was not the life of the party. Still, politeness dictated that, since Tom was the one to approach the group, he had to make some sort of conversation. "I say," he began cheerily, "it's nearly six. I wonder if the conference is going to start on time?"

Suddenly, the twitchy man grabbed Tom's wrist and peered at the watch on it, his nose almost touching the face of it. Tom tried to wrench his arm away, but the man moved closer and stared at the watch as though it was written in code. "Um, excuse me, " Tom jerked back his wrist, "but-"

Thankfully, Oz chose that moment to call, "Welcome, everyone! If you'll gather by the door, please, the eleventh official Grand Annual Conference can begin!"

The twitchy man muttered something like 'Time doesn't like being started on' and let go of Tom's wrist. The Victorian gentleman took the opportunity to cross to the other side of the crowd. He could've sworn he heard the blonde boy, Draco Malfoy, chuckle loudly. How rude.

A hand caught his shoulder, and Tom turned around to see the turtle-like man. "Don't worry about the Hatter." Fenoglio said. "He's a little...touched in the head. It's normal in the world he came from- the other guest from that series, the Queen of Hearts-" he lowered his voice and pointed at the scarlet-haired woman- "keeps screaming about cutting peoples' heads off."

Tom felt a bit foolish for not having noticed- he did work at Bedlam, after all. He smiled gratefully. "Ah- uh- thank you."

"No problem." the other man replied. "It's interesting, isn't it, being at this party and getting to meet such a variety of characters? Some of these are from very famous series, like those two-" he pointed out Draco, the shaggy-haired man, and the woman with the dagger- "and the Hatter and the Queen of Hearts. Oz and Glinda are fairly famous in their own right, too."

"Is that his only name, then? The Hatter?" asked Tom.

"I don't know for sure. It makes sense, I guess."

It certainly did, thought Tom, looking over at the little man with the big hat. His headgear was definitely the most prominent thing about him.

Tom's thoughts were interrupted when Oz finally began his pre-conference speech. The gentleman shifted his weight from foot to foot, only half listening. He noticed the woman with the large ruby necklace was back at Oz's side again. She whispered something into Oz's ear and then disappeared into the house with a swish of her sequined dress. A moment later, the smells of good food began to waft out from the open door, and he could faintly hear the sounds of a table being set. Tom wished the wizard would stop speaking so they could eat- rumor had it the food was exquisite at these parties. He couldn't wait to get inside the house and officially start the conference.

* * *

After a speech that lasted long enough for our limbs (as well as our minds) to become numb, we were finally allowed inside to sample the delicious food and have invigorating conversation with the other guests.

Right.

So far, I had yet to meet a single person worth talking to at this whole party. I had a sneaking feeling this year's 'conference' was going to be just as horrible as it was last year- except this year, there was no Fang to take my mind off of things.

We all sat at a giant wooden table in their yellow-painted, vase-filled dining room- Oz and Glinda at either neatly-polished end, and the rest of us wherever we wanted to be on the sides. The three empty seats beside me were quickly filled by two blonde girls I had spotted talking to each other on the lawn and a dark-haired man with a generous amount of stubble.

To my surprise, the blonde girl sitting directly beside me turned and introduced herself. "I'm Felicity Worthington." she said. "This party really is awful, isn't it?"

Oz, clearly in earshot of Felicity, shot a dirty look at her. I laughed and answered, "Maximum Ride. You're absolutely right. Everyone's so afraid of being rude that they won't say a thing."

Felicity smiled, and just like that, we started an actual conversation. Yes, yours truly, actually managed to carry on a casual conversation with a non-flock member and a non-relative/mad scientist/general crazy person. Of course, I didn't know her story- she could be some kind of demon in human form, for all I knew- but still, it felt nice.

We talked through the first course, and then she introduced the two people sitting next to her. I found out that the other blonde was Eowyn and the shaggy-haired man was Sirius Black, that Eowyn had fought in a war and killed the formidable second-in-command of the opposing army, that she had been riding horses since she was very young, that she loved sword-fighting, that she had fallen in love with the now-king of men, and that he had married an elf. "Aragorn looks a lot like you, actually" she observed, turning to Sirius. "I wish he was here so you could meet him."

"What about you, Sirius?" Felicity asked, leaning towards him. "What's your story?"

Sirius, however, did not want to talk. Even when Felicity reminded him that all members of the GACC used an honor code not to repeat any of the stories of other characters unless they were given explicit permission to, he remained vague. Finally, Sirius told us it was against the law of his series to tell us anything about...well, about what, he never said. "I've been to prison once." he said. "I don't want to repeat that experience anytime soon."

"Really?" Felicity pushed a some peas around her plate, but her shark-like eyes were focused on him. "What was prison like?"

Sirius shuddered, looking like the memory aged him decades. "Cold."

At some point during this exchange, Angel sent me a thought asking if she and the rest of the flock (minus Dylan) could go outside and fly around some. _Sure,_ I answered. _Just...stay close, and come back before it's dark, all right?_ How motherly of me, right?

As it turned out, my motherliness was both extremely lucky and extremely stupid- but that part comes later.

"How about you, Maximum?" Felicity inquired. "What's the story behind the wings?"

"Uh..." I began.  


Beside me, Dylan leaned forward. "We were made this way, by scientists. We're genetic experiments."

Just as I was deciding whether to kill him (for being blunt) or feel grateful (that I didn't have to explain), the room went dark. Several characters screamed.

Oz, a few feet to my left, said, "Must be something wrong with the switchboard- Glinda, would you be a dear and go check?" and I heard her quick footsteps leaving the room. Then, after a moment, there was the sound of other footsteps in the hall- slow footsteps, barely audible, that didn't sound anything like Oz. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. After a moment, the slow footsteps disappeared in the direction Oz had gone, and the only noise was the frantic whispering of fourteen terrified guests.

I felt around for Dylan in the chair beside me, but my hand closed on empty space. Funny, I didn't remember him getting up. "Dylan?" I whispered, throat suddenly tight.

"I'm here," he replied, but his voice was coming from the doorway. "I can't see anyone out-"

He was cut off an earth-shattering crash. The little light coming from the windows disappeared. Some crazy birdkid instinct activated in me, and before I'd even consciously decided to, I was up and running, ready to break through the glass windows and leave- but I could feel no glass on the windows. Instead, I found myself banging on a cold, hard sheet of metal.

A few frantic minutes later, Glinda returned. She whispered something to Oz, and darted out of the room again. Slowly, very slowly, the wizard stood. "It's the switchboard." he said. "It's been smashed, apparently."

Several characters, myself included, let out loud expressions of dismay. Oz held up a hand. "And this- this metal on the windows and doors, well...the realtor said when I bought this house that it came with hurricane protection, although I never figured out where it was or how to use it..." He laughed nervously, rubbing his face.

"So what does this mean?" Sirius said.

Oz sighed. "Well, it would appear we're trapped in here with no power, for the moment. I'm sure we can figure out something, soon, but-"

"How did the switchboard get smashed?" asked Eowyn.

"I don't know." Oz said. "An accident, or something..."

I glanced over at Dylan, wondering if he was thinking what I was thinking. Because accidents like this, that destroyed property and left a dozen people stranded in a pitch-black house with plenty of hiding spots...accidents like these were rarely accidents.

Call me paranoid, but someone, or something, had deliberately destroyed the switchboard.

* * *

**A/N: In case any of you want to know, the series (series'? serieses?) I'm using for this are the Wizard of Oz (minus Wicked), the Hunger Games, the Gemma Doyle trilogy, Harry Potter, the Inkheart trilogy, Lord of the Rings, Alice in Wonderland (the original), and Maximum Ride (minus anything after Fang, because that's when this work began).**


	2. Where the Goblins Go

I was feeling even more pissed off than you might expect, given the situation. It had only been a few hours since the blackout- hours of finding out that the phone lines were cut, that there was no cell service in this forest, that Oz had never bothered to set up Internet access, in fact, that Oz had apparently never set up any way to communicate with the outside world- and while some were taking the situation seriously, others...less so.

And by others, I mean Glinda. I didn't know what was up with her, but she didn't seem to realize we were in any danger- she was too busy fawning over the other pain in my neck. The witch and Dylan were always standing next to each other, talking together. It wasn't like I was jealous, but it's just hard to focus on the problem at hand when you can hear Glinda and Dylan whispering on the other side of the room. Not only that, but Oz's former friendly demeanor to Dylan and I had all but disappeared when he noticed their sudden closeness. As if it was my fault!

The pair weren't the only thing driving me crazy, however. To be trapped in an unfamiliar house, in the dark, especially after my experiences at the School- I spent my time either worrying, or trying to contact Angel. Where could she and the Flock be? They'd just gone out to fly around a little, they shouldn't be out of range. Why hadn't they noticed the hurricane shields go down?

Three hours after the dinner, Oz stood in front of us, face ashen. "All right, since," he began, and stopped, seemingly at a loss for words. "Since- since we don't know how long we're going to be here, I think it would be best to prepare ourselves as best as possible. I'm- I'm sure we'll figure something out, though, or someone will notice..."

He trailed off, taking a deep breath. "Well, we- or rather I- uh, decided to assign bedrooms to everyone. I thought it would be best for each character to room with their series- since you know each other best, and all that. And there's more than one bed in each room, so no one should have to share."

I noticed there were a few characters who did not look like they wanted to room with their own series- the blonde boy and Felicity frowned, and Mortola shot a dirty look at Fenoglio. For a second, I thought I could hear a sound behind me, like breathing, but when I turned, there was nothing there. Probably just good ol' birdkid paranoia acting up again.

Oz continued. "We have seven bedrooms total, one on the bottom floor, three on the second floor, and three on the third-"

The little blonde girl (apparently named Primrose) asked, "But aren't there eight series here?"

Oz blinked at her distractedly. "Yes, yes, yes, of course you're right. Um- Eowyn, you're the only one here from your series, right? You can share the master bedroom with Glinda and I."

He turned back to the group. "Anyways, Max and Dylan can room on the bottom floor. Sirius, Malfoy, Hatter, Queen of Hearts, Mortola, and Fenoglio- all of you can use the rooms on the second floor. And that leaves me, Glinda, Eowyn, Tom, Felicity, Katniss, and Prim on the third floor."

The wizard paused, mopping his forehead. "Glinda and I will try to provide food and the like the best we can for all of you, and if you've brought anything, we hope you'll share. We probably won't be here that long anyways- someone will find us- wait, Maximum, isn't your flock out of the house right now?"

"Yes, but I haven't been able to contact them." I answered.

"Well, they'll have to return at some point." Oz said. "I guess we should all get settled in, then? Everyone who brought luggage can find it in the entrance hall. Glinda and I will show you to your rooms so you can unpack and get settled. Once we've all done that, we can meet in the dining room and figure out what to do next."

He cleared his throat. "Look, I just want to apologize, and I want you to know that I firmly believe it will all be cleared up by morning. I'm sorry. I know I should've prevented this, I should've found the switch or gotten Internet or- I'm sorry that you all have to be subject to this. While we're here, let's just try to treat it as an extended conference, and soon you'll all be home again."

I couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit sorry for him, even if he was trying to make us treat this like a party. However, my moment of goodwill ended immediately when I heard Glinda say, "I'll show you to your room, Dylan." I scowled as she took his arm and they walked back towards the entrance hall.

* * *

"Thank you for showing me to my room." Dylan said as he lugged his bag down the hall. He'd felt slightly guilty leaving Max in the entrance hall, but she'd been in a foul mood all evening. If Dylan had learned anything in his life, it was that angry Max should be left alone.

Glinda smiled at him. "Not a problem." They walked along in silence for a minute. Then, Glinda pushed her hair out of her face. "I'm sure you've noticed I've been talking to you a lot tonight."

Dylan laughed a bit self-consciously. "Yeah, I was kinda wondering, but you seem nice."

"Thank you." Glinda said. "I just..are you all right?"

"What do you mean?" asked Dylan.

"Well, I've seen the way you look at Maximum, and the way she treats you..." said Glinda. "And I researched your story, I know you don't have many other allies. I wanted to make sure you had someone to talk to, if you needed it."

Dylan blinked, surprised. "Uh...thank you."

"You're welcome. Comes with being good, I suppose." Glinda beamed at him. "Here's your room. And if you need the other thing, too, I'm always available."

"Thanks." Dylan said again. "Uh, thank you, really, a lot. But could you tell me where the nearest bathroom is?"

"Oh, yeah, it's that way." Glinda pointed down the hall. "Third door to the left."

Dylan smiled and waved in thanks as he headed into the blackness. After a moment, Glinda hefted up his luggage and dragged it into the bedroom. She placed it down, and faced away from the door, wiping her hands.

Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth, and a strong arm wrapped around her waist.

Her first thought was that it was Dylan, acting on some weird bird kid instinct. By the time she felt the cold point of the knife on her back, it was too late. She struggled wildly, but her captor had too strong a grip on her as they drove a knife deep into her waist. The last thing she felt was the sensation of being gently lowered to the ground, before she was lifted, higher than one of Oz's balloons, faster than Dorothy's red shoes, far, far, into the distance.

* * *

In the front hall, I was impossibly even more pissed off than I'd been earlier. Someone had kindly taken the time to ransack my trunk and hide everything in the entrance hall and the surrounding rooms. The other characters had helpfully left to put their luggage away, leaving me to find it all myself. Even Dylan hadn't stayed, which was a first.

As I was fantasizing about violently killing Dylan and the rest of them for being so very helpful, Oz walked in. "Where's Glinda?" he asked.

"Wasn't she showing Dylan to his room?"

"Yes, but it shouldn't take that long, it's just down the-" Oz began.

The party host was interrupted when an out-of-breath Dylan scurried into the room. "Oz- something's happened- it's Glinda-"

Oz dashed off even before Dylan finished her name. "What happened?" I asked.

The birdboy gripped a coat rack as if to steady himself. "Glinda's- Glinda's been murdered."

"What? How? When?"

"I don't know," he answered heavily, "but I think she'd been lying there only a few minutes when I arrived. I was just returning from the bathroom, and I looked in, and there she was, on the ground with a wound in her back."

He looked sick, like he was about to faint. Dylan or not, I ran over to him and helped him sit. I'd seen death before, yeah, but during a party, and someone as innocent as Glinda? As Oz began to raise the alarm, I slumped down next to Dylan, not feeling a thing but his hand clutching mine.


	3. Shooting At Birds

The dining room was silent as we waited for Sirius and Dylan to return. With no way out of the house, the pair had gone to lay Glinda's body in a spare room, but they were taking a long time to find their way back. Oz would've gone with them, but he was in an awful state- we'd found him passed out on the floor of our room. The balloonist had apparently fainted from shock. Since we'd helped him back to the dining room, Oz hadn't said a word, only sat staring at the tablecloth.

At that moment, Dylan and Sirius returned and took their seats.

"It was murder." snapped the Queen of Hearts almost immediately. "Someone murdered that woman, and they're going to murder the rest of us, too. Off with their heads! OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!" She cackled and slammed her fist on the table.

"No one is going to be decapitated." Fenoglio replied calmly. "For all we know, it may not even be murder-"

"Not murder?" I said. "Glinda was found on the floor in a dark, isolated room with a knife wound in her back! Oh yes, that's definitely not murder! That's just, what, a heart attack?"

"You know, she was found in _your_ room, Maximum." Malfoy's eyes glinted at me in a way I did not like at all.

Before I could slap him, Fenoglio hurriedly interjected, "Let's not start throwing out accusations here! We are all equally suspicious-"

Several of the more hot-tempered characters loudly protested. Sirius had to whistle loudly to get us all to quiet down again.

"Thank you, Sirius." Fenoglio said. "As I was saying, we should just accept that we're all suspects and not throw accusations out right now. We don't know how long we're going to be here, and I'm sure none of us want to live in a war zone."

Felicity snorted.

"Do you have something you want to say?" the author asked, giving her a look that could've scorched earth.

The Victorian woman held his gaze. "Just that if someone's getting murdered, we're kind of already in a warzone. And your suspect-everyone theory doesn't make any sense. You can't suspect me. I was with Tom the whole time, and I'm sure I'm not the only one with an alibi."

"Really? And you and Tom, you were at each other's sides the whole time? Neither of you ever, say, had to use the bathroom, or separated for any other reason?"

Tom shifted uncomfortably. "Um, well, actually, I did have to use the lavatory...once. And Felicity was gone when I got back."

Felicity whirled on him, turning red, and Tom cowered in his seat

"Does that go for everyone else, too?" Fenoglio asked. "Is there anyone here we can clear of suspicion- anyone who was with one person the whole time?"

Prim raised her hand. "I was with Katniss. We were together the whole time."

The turtlelike man nodded. "Now then, we just need to figure out our motives. I think that the most likely method is greed- Glinda was wearing a large ruby necklace, wasn't she? And just look around the room-" his eyes traveled over Oz and Tom's expensive watches, the Queen's tiara, Malfoy's strange moon-thing, and the jewelry Eowyn and Felicity were wearing- "-if it was greed, they're likely to strike again. They might have trapped us in here to get at all of it. My only question would be why they had to kill- couldn't they just steal what they needed while we were all asleep?"

"Does it have to be one of us? Couldn't someone have snuck in?" asked Eowyn.

"No." Oz said hoarsely. "My security system is state-of-the-art. I would never let anyone- no one could ever-" He sighed, staring at his hands. "No one could've gotten in without me knowing, unless they were somehow invisible."

Fenoglio patted Oz's shoulder. "That's your answer, Eowyn. For now, let's just work on the assumption that the security system did its job, and the only people in this house are ourselves. It isn't pleasant, no, but it's the most likely option- unless you know any ways to make yourself invisible."

"This is bull, you know." growled Mortola. "All this suspect-no-one, play-nice-until-we-know-more. If there's a murderer out there, or even in here, they're not going to play nice with us, are they?"

Fenoglio turned to her, jaw set. "That might be true, but, since we don't have any clue who the murderer is, we can't just go around accusing people left and right. Unless you know something the rest of us don't?"

"So you're saying we should just wait to be killed?" Mortola hissed.

"No," said Fenoglio, rubbing his temples, "but accusing other people isn't going to help anything."

"Then what are we supposed to do?" I said. I crossed my arms and waited.

Fenoglio hesitated, and his eyes said everything- he didn't have an answer. Mortola snorted. "Fine." she said, standing. "Then I'm not waiting to be killed. I'm out of here. I'm going to find them before they can try again. And don't worry about me being murdered, either, I've got my own ways to prevent that." She stalked out of the room and slammed the door.

For a minute, no one said a word. Then Felicity stood up and left, muttering she was tired. Slowly, the other characters followed suit, including Dylan and I. It was clear there was nothing left to be said, anyways, not when we knew so little.

* * *

When everyone else had gone, Fenoglio and Tom were left behind to help Oz up to his room.

"Fenoglio, what did Mortola mean when she said that she had her own ways to prevent murder?" Tom asked.

Fenoglio grunted as he lifted Oz out of his chair. "She probably brought her rifle. Lord knows why, but she brings it everywhere. I should know, though."

"Why?"

He laughed mirthlessly. "Because I created her."

Tom stared as they walked down the hall, supporting Oz between them. Yes, Fenoglio had mentioned over supper about how a man had unwittingly read some of his characters into being, but he'd never mentioned Mortola was one of them! "Do you...do you think she might be the murderer?"

"I don't know." The author sounded almost sad as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. "When she was my character, most of the motivations for her actions came from her son- she would do anything for him, and, I mean, if you asked me whether the son was the murderer, I'd say yes in a heartbeat. But now that her son's gone...I just don't know who she is anymore. She certainly knows how to kill...but I don't think she would unless she got something out of it. I'm more worried about what would happen if the murderer somehow got their hands on her rifle."

They climbed the stairs to the third floor with Oz and safely delivered him to his room. After Oz thanked them, the duo lingered outside of Tom's room. The Victorian gentleman didn't want to leave Fenoglio to walk back downstairs to his room alone, but, if he accompanied the turtlelike man, Tom would have to walk back upstairs by himself. Fenoglio seemed to sense his hesitation and leaned against the doorframe. "Well, don't get murdered."

Tom almost smiled. "You too. Hope to see you in the morning."

"Good night!" The author waved and walked back down the hall, the picture of calm.

Tom got his nightclothes from his trunk and changed, thinking as he did about how much creepier it made it that they were in such a big house. The killer could be striking again right now, without anyone to hear. He wondered what would happen if he was murdered in some dark recess far away from the front of the house...if anyone would ever find his body...

He shook off these dark thoughts and slipped under his covers.

* * *

The Queen of Hearts paced the length of their room. The Hatter watched her from his cot, hands gripping tightly to the brim of his hat.

"It's Time." he whispered. "I murdered Time, and now she'll murder me! She'll murder us all!"

"You deserve it." the Queen spat. "That song really was a bloody waste of time. Tea trays in the sky..." She snorted as she carefully removed her tiara, set it on the bedside table, and flopped down on her large double bed.

"Don't say that!" cried the Hatter. "Time'll hear you! Then she'll bloody waste me! I don't want to be wasted!" He pulled his hat onto his head and down over his eyes.

The Queen was about to retort when she thought she heard footsteps in the hallway. She climbed out of bed in a huff and went to check. She couldn't see a thing. The Hatter opened his mouth to speak, and the Queen snapped, "If you say one more thing about Time I will-"

"We hates this place, don'ts wes?" The new voice was soft, but so guttural and wretched the Queen paused mid-rant and froze to listen. "No good food and no way out, no way to the precious...but we likes the dark, oh yes, the dark suits us just fine." The voice grew fainter as its owner moved down the hallway, and then there was silence again.  


The Hatter and the Queen stared at the door. "It's Time." the Hatter whispered.

"Nonsense." Abruptly, she turned and got back into bed, arranging the covers daintily around her. "Time wouldn't dare disturb my slumber. No one does. And if they do, off with their heads." But her voice lacked its usual conviction.  


* * *

Dylan had just begun to softly snore when I let out possibly the longest string of curses in my short life. He immediately bolted up right, of course. "What's wrong?"

"It's Angel." I whispered, mind still reeling from the revelation. "I finally managed to contact the little monster, and she's...she's taken over the flock."

There was a pause before Dylan answered. "She's not leaving us here, is she?"

"She is." I pressed my fingers to my eyelids, struggling not to cry. I never cried (except when Fang left, but that didn't count), and even more than that, I never cried around Dylan. "And she's got the rest of the flock under her mind control, too. I never realized she had that much power. It makes me wonder, once again, if she was ever really as sweet as she seemed, or if she was really just controlling us into thinking so without us knowing. Who knows, maybe she really did control me more than I thought... maybe I wouldn't have made some of the decisions I've made without her control..."

I could hear him shifting nervously, like he always did when I was emotional. I continued, "It's just...all the flock is gone now. Fang is off God knows where doing God knows what, and the rest of them...all gone."

"You still have me." Dylan offered. Of course.

"Yes, but you're not flock." I said. I lay back down and turned away from him. What was I supposed to do now?

* * *

"Malfoy!"

Malfoy kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. Why was Black waking him up at one in the morning? Didn't he need beauty sleep for his incredibly dreadful-looking hair?

"Malfoy, dammit, I know you're awake! I need to ask you something!"

Reluctantly, Malfoy rolled over to face the shadowy outline of Sirius. "What do you want, Black?" he growled.

"Do you have your wand?"

"Not only am I the son of two jailed Death Eaters, but I'm a suspect of involvement with the murder of Albus Dumbledore as well as a number of other Death Eater actions. The only reason I'm not in Azkaban yet is of Granger and her bloody 'community services' like this conference. Do you really think the Ministry would let me keep my wand?"

"All right, all right, I was only asking. I, er, broke my wand two days ago, and I haven't gotten a new one made yet. I didn't think I would need it for a Muggle party!"

Malfoy hadn't thought he could be any more revolted by the Black heir. He was wrong. "So we're stuck here," he finally drawled, "because you broke your wand. We can't Apparate, can't use any charms to get ourselves out, all because, what, you sat on it? Or were you just drunk from another loud party and accidentally blew it up?"

"Well, if you hadn't tried to murder Dumbledore-"

That was when they heard the gunshots.

* * *

Katniss woke up from an uneasy sleep as soon as she heard gunshots, three of them, coming from somewhere deep inside the house. She leaped to her feet, for a moment back in the Hunger Games, in District 13 and the Capitol-

"Katniss?" asked Prim, sounding tiny in the dark. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Prim, just go back to sleep." Katniss pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and walked out into the hallway, closing the door behind her. Other characters had already begun to gather, bleary-eyed in their nightclothes. For a moment, they glanced uncertainly at each other. Then there was another gunshot, this time accompanied by a faint cry, and Katniss was off running.

She turned into a hallway full of still-life paintings, and- there they all were. Dylan, Max, and Felicity were kneeling around the body, and Fenoglio was crouched a few feet off, head in his hands. Tom went over to comfort him while Katniss dropped to her knees and began examining Mortola. The magpie-like woman had a bullet hole in her chest, and another in her leg, but she had clearly put up a fight- the paintings closer to her were lying facedown on the ground, shards of glass from their covers surrounding them, and a picture of a moldy-looking pineapple had a bullet embedded in its leaves. Katniss hoped whoever the murderer was had a few bulletholes as well.

Then another thought struck her, a far more disturbing one- there was evidence of a gun everywhere, from the paintings to the wounds in Mortola's body.

So where was it?

**A/N: Stroke of luck for the murderer, isn't it? Anyways, there are a few clues in this chapter...but there are also a few red herrings...any guesses as to the murderer and their motive?**


	4. Settling All Difficulties

"Why are we here?" Felicity asked.

Eowyn sat on one of the beds in the Harry Potter room, eyes closed and head leaned back against the wall. Felicity paced back and forth between the beds, occasionally throwing an impatient glare at Sirius while she waited for him to answer her question.

Sirius himself was slumped on the other bed. "I need your help. I want to search everyone's rooms to find that gun."

"How do you know you'll find it?" Felicity stopped and crossed her arms. "They might be too smart for that."  


Sirius held up a finger. "Yes, but it's only been about half an hour since Mortola. If they wanted to seem completely above suspicion, they wouldn't have been at the crime scene when everyone arrived. They would have run back in the direction of whichever room they're staying in so we would think they were just coming from their room, and I'm guessing that was their only opportunity to hide the gun. Especially if it was a double murder- they could've handed it off to their roommate, who would go and hide it. That way they could cover for each other, too."

"You think it was a double murder?" asked Eowyn.

"Fenoglio didn't really mention it, but I think it's a real possibility." Sirius said. "We all came here in pairs from one place, except for you, Eowyn. There would be plenty of time to plan something this elaborate out beforehand if it were two people from the same universe."

"Yeah, but most of us hate each other." Felicity said. "Just look at me and Tom, and you and Malfoy..."

"That's why I know I can trust you two." Sirius said. "You both are above suspicion. The characters who I do suspect, however...Max and Dylan seem close, and Katniss and Prim are sisters, and, there's also the Wonderland characters. It's hard to tell if they like each other or not, but they're both crazy. This type of thing is only done by madmen."

"No, I like the idea of Max and Dylan." Felicity said, sitting on one of the beds. "Glinda was murdered in their room, and everyone could tell that she was irritating Max. And besides, they're genetic freaks. Who knows what goes on in their minds."

"What about Malfoy?" Eowyn asked. "He seems like he has something against all of us. What's his story?"

Sirius hesitated. "Well, his issue with us is mainly that we're not related to him...but it's possible. He's been part of groups that would do this sort of thing before, but he's alone, and he doesn't have a weapon."

"The gun." Felicity said.

"That's just...not his style." Sirius said. "He's an expert with something else."

Felicity raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really, what kind?" Sirius didn't respond. "How do we know we can trust you if you won't even tell us this one simple thing?"

The ex-convict stood. "Let's just go search the rooms. We'll start with the bedrooms, and then the rooms around them. We can stay together, so none of us are in any danger."

"So I'm not in any danger." muttered Felicity as she followed him out into the hallway. Eowyn glanced around at the empty room. For a moment, she could have sworn she heard something breathe.

* * *

The Hatter frantically wandered the hallways a floor above them, chewing on his nails. There was nowhere to hide, and he was going to be bloody wasted, just like he'd bloody wasted Time! He was going to be bloody wasted, yes, and that was a most unpleasant thing to happen. He crouched down in the middle of the hallway, head between his knees, breathing heavily. There was no escape...

* * *

When the Everdeen sisters entered the study, Malfoy spared them a moment's glance before returning to his book. Instead of leaving, however, Katniss barged past the shelves and snatched the novel out of his hands.

"If you're looking for a good read, there are plenty of others in this library." said Malfoy.

Katniss leaned in close, hands on either arms of his chair. "I want you to stop."

"Stop what?" Malfoy asked.

"You know what I'm talking about." Katniss said. "You're the one who's killing all these people. And I'll have you know, I'm pretty handy with weapons, so if you don't stop, or if you lay one hand on Prim or I, I'm going to-" She was interrupted by Malfoy smirking. "What?"  


"You actually think I'm the murderer?" chuckled Malfoy.  


Katniss straightened. "Yes. The whole time we've been here, you have just sulked around and glared at us all. Why would you even come in the first place if you hated everyone here?"

"That's my business." Malfoy said. "I'm not the murderer. Now, please, unless you have some more idiotic accusations to make, I'd like my book and my alone time back." He snatched for it, but Katniss jerked it out of his grasp.

"Well if you're not, then who is?"

Malfoy sighed loudly. "You're really not going to leave until I play guess-the-murderer with you, are you?"

"No." the huntress snapped. "I want to know what other plausible explanation there is."

"Fine." said Malfoy. "It's probably, I don't know, that birdgirl. She gets jealous of Glinda and Dylan and decides to take care of things the irrational way." He shrugged. "Is that plausible enough for you?"

"What- what about Eowyn?" Prim crept forward timidly. "She brought a knife, we saw it.**"**

Malfoy snorted. "Yes, but if she really was the murderer, do you think she'd be waving it around everywhere?"

Katniss looked enraged, but before she could say anything, Prim stepped in front of her. "She could be doing it on purpose! To make us not suspect her!"

"Too complicated, especially considering her plans just failed, seeing as we're suspecting her anyways." Malfoy said. He snatched his book from Katniss and flipped it open, searching for his page. "And she's too noble. She could never kill someone in cold blood."

"What about Oz, then?" Katniss said. "He's the one who invited us here, and he's also said to be a good liar."

"Yeah!" said Prim. "And he also knows the house pretty well."

Malfoy regarded her coldly. "As much as it pains me to continue this conversation, I have to contribute a single question- why would Oz kill Glinda?"

Neither girl had an answer.

"Good, no more talking." Malfoy said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find someplace where I can actually be alone. This house seems to be growing more and more crowded by the day." He closed his book with a snap and stormed out.

* * *

Dylan and I confined ourselves to the room for most of the day, alternately napping and discussing who the murderer could be. There wasn't much else to do, between the darkness and the whole murder thing, and, after several hours, I was about to go crazy.

"It just doesn't make sense." Dylan said for about the millionth time. "There is no way anyone could have had time to run back to their room, and to the crime scene, and to hide the gun, unless- unless they never went back to their room-"

"Well, you were there first." I murmured.

Dylan paled. "Max, I wasn't- I didn't- you know that I'm not-"

"Do you really think I'm serious?" I rolled my eyes. "You? Really? I don't think you could murder an Eraser if you tried."

"Hey." Dylan said, turning red. "I'm sure if someone was attacking me, I could... don't even joke about that."

I rolled over on my side facing the wall, preparing to take another nap, but sleep wouldn't come. Out of sheer boredom, I asked, "Who do you think it is, then?"

For a long time, Dylan was silent. "I don't know." he said at last.

"Real helpful."

"No, no, I- I was thinking maybe...Fenoglio?"

"Fenoglio?"

"Well, he knows an awful lot about how murderers work." he said. "And more than that, when he was talking about the murderer, he seemed...excited about it."

"Excited enough to kill his own creation?" I said.

"They didn't seem to like each other-" Dylan began.

I rolled my eyes."Not liking someone is a reason to, say, try and get them kicked out of the flock. It's not a reason to kill them."

"Will you just let me finish?" Dylan said, and I looked at him in surprise. This was the first time he had ever shown anything even slightly resembling a spine, especially where I was concerned. "Fenoglio knew way too much about motives, and about weapons, and about the set up...and just the whole thing."

"Then why would he tell us?"

"To throw us off the track." Dylan said. "So we would think he wanted to help us."

"Still." I said. "It takes a certain type of crazy to trap innocent people in a pitch-black mansion and kill them in cold blood, and I just don't think Fenoglio is that type."

"What about the Hatter, then? He's crazy." Dylan said.

"He doesn't seem like the type either."

"Fine, then who is 'the type'?" Dylan said. "Since apparently it's not anyone I say."

"How about Katniss and Prim?" I said.

Dylan laughed. "Really? Prim?"

I sat up to glare at him. "I'm serious! We know from Angel that little girls aren't always innocent-"

"Yeah, because we should totally use Angel as a standard for normal girls-"

"What is with you? Just hear me out. I heard they've had experience in killing-"

"Like you've never killed someone because you had to." Dylan said. "And anyways, Katniss uses a bow. I saw it in her luggage."

"Yeah, but she's probably experienced with other weapons, too." I said. Why was Dylan being so frustrating? "And maybe she got too used to killing. Or maybe she's so paranoid now that she somehow thinks we're a threat."

Dylan shrugged. "I guess it's possible. But it still doesn't make sense. None of it does."

I flopped down again, staring up at the ceiling. "Well, you got that right."

* * *

Fenoglio stared at Mortola, his character, his creation, lying pale and still on the bed before him. She wasn't meant to die. He ran a shaking hand through his hair. She was supposed to survive the book, even if she was never the pleasantest character. Fenoglio had learned too much over the past few years about how little control writers have over their characters, but this...this was different.

Behind him, Oz sat on the bed, panting from the effort of climbing the stairs, and Tom lingered in the doorway. Fenoglio avoided both of their glances as he turned around.   


"It's just so hard to believe." he said. "I always liked writing her. She was one of my meanest characters, but I liked her. Funny how that works- your villains are always your favorites."

The bed springs creaked as Oz stood and placed a hand on Fenoglio's shoulder. "Well, if there's anything you need, Fenoglio, anything at all, you know I'll be there. After Glinda-" He took a deep breath. "Well, I'd like to get this cleared up as soon as possible."

"Actually, there is something." Fenoglio said. "I know I can trust both of you. I don't know the same about the others. But I think we should team up, keep an eye on everyone else- you know, just in case."

"Like Sirius?" Tom said. "Sorry, I don't mean to throw stones, but I think he's a strong suspect. I asked that Malfoy fellow about him earlier, and, well, did you know he went to prison for killing thirteen people?"

Fenoglio nodded. "Sirius would be one to watch. But actually, I wanted to asked you, Tom, what about Felicity?"

Tom considered it. "Well, she, uh, certainly has done things of that kind before, and she definitely has a bloodthirsty nature, but I don't know. I don't think so."

Fenoglio shrugged. "It was just a thought. So we watch Sirius, maybe Felicity, and..."

"The Queen of Hearts." Oz said. "Talk about bloodthirsty."

"You're right." Fenoglio said. Tom nodded in agreement. "Although, it doesn't make for a very good story..."

* * *

The Queen of Hearts wandered alone in the hallways, breathing hard, with one hand on the necklace around her neck. It was hissing and whispering behind her, following her like it had been ever since she'd gotten the ring. She didn't know what it was, Death, or Darkness, or Hatter's Time, but it couldn't be destroyed with a simple order to her card soldiers. For the first time in years- decades, even- the Queen of Hearts was afraid. All she could see behind her were two pinpricks in the darkness.

It was the ring, she knew, the ring she'd taken off the Three of Spades. He had never been the same after he'd gotten lost during training, but no one had expected him to defy the Queen when the ring had caught her eye and she had asked for it. She'd eventually gotten it, after his head was off. And after a while, when she'd worn it around her neck so long it had started whispering to her at night, she began hearing the other voice, the voice of the creature pursuing her. She'd tried ordering its execution, but no one could cut off the head of a creature they couldn't find. The Queen had thought she could escape it at this party. Apparently, she was wrong.

Running was getting difficult- not only was she unused to running, but running itself was wrong. Queens don't run. The Queen of Hearts came to a halt, panting, and turned around.

The pinpricks of light were still there, but they widened as if uncertain. Well, of course they were uncertain, she was a Queen. She kept a hand wrapped around the ring on her neck as she said, "Who's there? Who is it? Answer me or I'll cut off your head!"

The pinpricks didn't answer, only got wider, and the Queen realized with a gasp they were getting closer, too. But no, she wasn't afraid. "Queens don't get afraid." she said, and "It's punishable by death to scare the Queen! And I'M NOT SCARED!"

The creature got closer, and she thought she could make out a shape of a figure, hunched over with a large head and thin, distorted limbs. "I'm still not scared!" she stammered, even as the pinpricks of light became eyes. She backed up, hands scrabbling at the wall behind her. "You can't scare a Queen, you can't scare a- ah!" The creature reached out one twisted hand, and too late the Queen realized her mistake- she had uncovered the ring. "You can't have it!"

The creature lunged and wrapped cold fingers around her throat. The Queen tried to shout something, maybe "Off with his head!" and maybe just "Help!", but it was too late. She felt her knees hit the floor as the world swam, the yellow pinpricks joined by thousands and thousands of other specks of lights, swirling around her. And then it all disappeared, the lights and the the cold fingers and the floor beneath her knees, and she was gone.


	5. The Brightest Star

We started the morning with a somber meeting at the dining room table. The night had been long for all of us- searching the house for the gun, carrying the Queen to her final rest, calming down the Hatter (who only stopped screaming once his voice ran dry), and of course, trying to sleep while an murderer walked among us. It was clear this was no longer about wealth. Fenoglio feebly mentioned a necklace of the Queen's, gone when they found her, but no one paid much attention.- her tiara and the rest of her jewelry had been left on her body. This was murder for the sake of murder, and the only question on everyone's mind now was who was going to be next.

As the last of the stragglers (Malfoy) drifted into the room, Oz motioned for quiet, not that anyone was really talking. The wizard sighed heavily. "All right." he said. "Tom, Fenoglio, and I have been taking a look around the house, and it appears that we are going to be here for a very long time." A few of the characters exclaimed in dismay. Oz waited until everyone was quiet. "I know that this is hard to hear. But I think that, in light of... recent events, we need work out a schedule."

"What do you mean?" asked Dylan.

"Well, we need to do things like cook, clean, and other chores." the balloonist said. "But mostly, we just need to know where everyone is at all times, so no one gets...lost."

Felicity looked bored by the very idea. "Won't the murderer know where we all are too?"

"That's just a risk we'll have to take." Oz said. "We will be assigning you into groups of three or four- these will be the groups you perform your cooking and cleaning duties with. As long as you're with your group, you should be in no trouble."

He took another deep breath, preparing for a long explanation. "So, the schedule. Since all of you can hopefully hear my grandfather clock, we will use that to determine time. At eight, we will all leave our rooms and come down here, into the parlor. The breakfast crew will make breakfast. As soon as they are done, we will eat, in the dining room, and prepare for the day with whatever hygiene needs you feel you need to address. Just remember to always have at least one other person with you, even if they are just waiting outside the restroom. At noon, we will all return here, and the lunch crew will prepare lunch. As soon as everyone is done, I will give out the chores that need to be taken care of that day- take the orders only from me, not from anyone else, especially if that person wants you to be alone with them. When your group has completed their assignments, you will return here, and at about six, the dinner crew will prepare dinner. At nine, we complete any nighttime hygiene activities, and by ten, everyone should be in their rooms. Ten will be our lights out, so to speak." He waited. Nobody laughed. "Any questions? Yes, Maximum."

"When do we do marching drills out in the lawn?"

Oz rubbed his temples. "Any constructive questions?"

"I'm not doing chores." Malfoy grumbled from the doorway. "Not for a bunch of mug- men like these."

Sirius turned to glare at him. "Yes, you are, if you want to eat. And believe me, I'll know if you try to steal anything. I can be a rather...dogged guard if I need to be."

"I repeat," Oz said, face turning red, "any questions that might benefit the whole group?"

"I think everyone understands." Fenoglio said softly, pulling Oz back into his seat.

"Good." Oz muttered. "Then here are the groups: breakfast will be Sirius, Draco, Maximum, and Dylan; lunch will be Eowyn, the Hatter, Katniss, and Prim; and dinner will be myself, Fenoglio, Tom, and Felicity. Any objections? None? Good." Oz settled comfortably into his seat. "Then, if the breakfast crew will begin their work..."

Sirius, Dylan, and I stood. After a few seconds, Malfoy followed us, wincing with every step like he was walking on knives.

* * *

Malfoy rattled loudly through one of the fridges. "Wine." he said at last. "Nothing but wine. Merlin, this Oz can drink."

"Merlin?" Dylan said, walking over to help him.

"Family saying." Sirius said quickly. He pulled out a couple of questionable-looking limes from the main fridge. "Anyone else notice that all this food is green?"

"What, it's rotten?" I asked. Wouldn't that be a treat, to starve to death with a bunch of hostile strangers, a violent crazy, and Dylan?

"No, just...green." Sirius said. He tossed the limes over to Malfoy and pulled out a pineapple, still in its green, spiky form, and some green grapes. "Cut those limes, Malfoy. Looks like we're having fruit salad."

Malfoy huffed, "Cut them? With what?"

"A knife should do the trick." Sirius said. "Look over by the oven."

"How are these fridges still working?" Dylan asked. "Aren't they powered by electricity?"

Sirius looked completely baffled. "Uh...are they?"

"Maybe there's a back-up generator?" I said. "Or maybe the food just hasn't gone bad yet."

"But why would a backup only work for the fridges?"

I snorted. "Do you really think Oz cares for much else but his food?" Over by the oven, Malfoy let out what might have been a laugh.

"Still..." Sirius said. "If there is a power source somewhere..." He opened one of the bottles of wine and took a swig. "Ugh, maybe not. This stuff is disgusting. It doesn't seem like Oz takes care of himself too well. Luckily there's lots of fruit."

"Is fruit salad all we're going to have?" Dylan asked.

"Maybe." Sirius said, placing the bottle back in the fridge. "I don't see anything else that looks like breakfast. Max, can you chop up about half of this pineapple? Dylan and I will look for more food in the cabinets."

For the next few minutes, there was silence in the crowded kitchen, broken only by the squeaking of the cabinet doors and the thud of the knives against the counter. As I worked, I found myself mesmerized by the oven, thinking about the last time I had (successfully) used one...back when Angel was still my baby, when Fang was still strong and silent, when no one had ever heard of Dylan, back when my awesome mom was teaching me how to bake cookies. Mom and Ella. I wondered what they were doing now. They were my only family now, at least until Fang and Angel got over themselves- because no matter how hard he tried, Dylan would never be family.

"I'm done." Malfoy said, throwing down his knife.

"Really? Let me see." Sirius said. His footsteps creaked by me as he approached Malfoy's part of the counter. "Malfoy, these are all uneven. We need everyone to get an equal share!"

Malfoy sighed. "How was I supposed to know that? This is just a stupid fruit salad, it's not the Draught of Living Death or anything!"

"That doesn't matter!" said Sirius. "It's still all we have to eat for breakfast! We don't have the kind of servants here you're used to!"

"Hey, Max." Dylan said, oblivious to the argument as he rooted through the cabinets. "Come check this out."

I eagerly dropped my knife- my pineapple slices were only marginally more even than Malfoy's- and walked over to him. "What is it?"

"Sirius wasn't kidding, all the food really is green. Come look."

I kneeled down beside him, shoulder brushing his, and felt around in the cabinet. Behind us, Sirius and Malfoy were loudly trading insults.

"At least I'm smart enough to not sit on my wand and break it!"

"Yeah, but you weren't smart enough to fight against the snakelike guy who calls his followers Death Eaters, were you?"

"Wow." I pulled out cans out to examine them more closely. "Green peas, green beans, green tea, herbal soup...he really is a wacko."

"Yeah, and look, there's even some green eggs and ham." Dylan said. I stared at him blankly. "From the Seuss stories?"

"Not a funny joke." I said, wrinkling my nose.

"Hey!" Malfoy shouted. "I sided with you in the end! The Ministry let me go to this bloody conference instead of punishing me! At least I've never been in Azkaban!"

"Yes, how wonderful for your character that you are rich enough to buy your way out of jail." yelled Sirius. "You may have helped kill one of the greatest men this world will ever know, but the Ministry forgives you, so you're just one swell guy!"

Dylan grinned. "Oh, I've got worse. For example, it looks like we'll be...going green!"

I couldn't help but smile. "Dylan, I can't believe you just-"

"My precioussssssssssss."

All four of us immediately fell silent. "What was that?" Malfoy whispered.

"It sounded like-" Dylan began, but Sirius shushed him. Then we all heard it- slow, dragging footsteps going by the doorway. We stared at each other, suddenly aware of how empty and dark this mansion really was.

"Was that any of you?" Dylan asked, voice trembling.

Sirius crossed to the doorway and looked out. "I don't see anything, but it is pitch black..." he said, trying to sound cheerful. "Should we send two people to look?"

"I'll go." Malfoy and I said at the same time.

"All right, Malfoy and Max." Sirius said. "If you're sure..."

"Max, don't go." Dylan whispered, pulling me back towards him. "It's too dangerous."

"Chill out, Dylan." I jerked my hand out of his grasp and glanced at Malfoy. "I can take him."

"Well, I know that, but what about me?" he said. "Don't leave me alone with..."

I rolled my eyes. "That's what you're worried about? Dylan, he's not the murderer." I turned around. "Hey, Sirius, are you the murderer?"

"Uh, no." Sirius said.

"Good. Then you and Dylan should get along swimmingly. Malfoy, let's go."

"I don't take orders from you." Malfoy growled, but he followed.

* * *

There was a short awkward silence in the kitchen. Sirius glanced at Dylan. "I'm, uh, not the murderer." he said. "Really."

"I know." Dylan said quickly. "It's just, Malfoy's been telling everyone you murdered some people in the past..."

"Bastard." Sirius grumbled. "He's the one with the record, not me. I was framed."

"Oh." Dylan said. "Cause, you know, I didn't want to tell Max, but I'm pretty worried about her going alone with him-"

"Oh, no, don't worry about it." Sirius said. "He uses a weapon that he doesn't have access to right now. I don't think he knows how to kill without it. I wouldn't be scared of him." There was another awkward pause. Sirius cleared his throat. "So, uh, you and Max seem close."

Dylan shrugged. "I wish."

"I had a couple of friends like two once." Sirius said. "Back in school. He was completely in love with her, but she had bit of a temper, like your Max-"

"A bit?"

Sirius smiled. "Well, a lot. For the longest time, no matter how hard he tried, she wanted nothing to do with him. It took years for her to even have a normal conversation with him. "

"What happened?" Dylan asked.

"They got married." Sirius said, sounding oddly sad. There was a loud clattering noise as he put down his knife. "All right, all the lime wedges are done. Now we should check the pantry-"

At that moment, I rushed in, flushed and out of breath. "Malfoy's gone. I don't know how he disappeared. I guess he must have just gone a different way without me noticing."

Sirius and Dylan traded glances, eyes wide. "We have to get the others." Sirius said, and took off, running out the door. "Come on!"

Dylan and I ran after him, finally arriving breathlessly in the living room. "What is it?" Fenoglio asked. "Is Malfoy-"

"Not yet." Sirius said. "He and Max were investigating a noise and he disappeared. We don't know what happened to him. We've got to find him."

As one, the characters dropped whatever they were doing, and fled out the door. Fenoglio's cries of "Stay together!" and "Don't go far!" went unheeded.

Somehow I found myself running beside Eowyn. "I'll take you back to where I noticed him missing." I said. "Then we can look from there."

"What was the noise you heard?" Eowyn asked.

I paused, trying to recall. "It was...really creepy. It was like this eeriee, guttural voice, whispering 'my precious'. Do you have any idea what that could mean?"

Eowyn slowed down some, panting. "Actually..." she said. "I might. We can talk about this later, though. We have to find Malfoy."

* * *

Dylan and Sirius searched together for a good five minutes, peeking into rooms and checking in closets. "There's just no way of knowing where he is." Sirius said. "None of the other people were found in a certain location."

"What if he's fine?" Dylan said. "He might have heard all of the noise and be waiting for us back in the kitchen."

"That would be just like that prat." Sirius said, running a hand through his hair. "Not making any noise or indication he's alive, just waiting for us...good idea."

They carefully navigated their way back to the kitchen. It took them a couple minutes to find the giant cabinet outside of the kitchen's door. When they entered, it was empty.

"Git." Sirius said. "Of course he wouldn't even have the decency to be waiting back where he-"

Something fell and hit the floor with a loud crash in the pantry. Dylan and Sirius froze.

"Malfoy?" Sirius said. "Who's there?" There was no answer. Sirius attempted a laugh. "Well, Dylan, do you want to check, or should I?" Dylan shook his head silently, and Sirius pulled open the pantry door and walked in.

The pantry was dark, even darker than the rest of the house. Within a couple seconds, Sirius couldn't even tell where the doorway was. He fumbled around, sent a couple of cans loudly crashing to the floor- and ran into something. Or rather, someone.

Sirius was about to apologize when he realized. He turned around to call out, to warn Dylan, but the other person was quicker and wrapped a cord around his neck. Stupidly, Sirius's first thought was to reach for his wand, to hex this person into oblivion. It was only after he could barely stand that he began fighting, lashing out at his attacker, and, finally, attempting to concentrate long enough to transform into a dog. Siruis Black fell to his knees as the earth rolled underneath him, as the cord stretched so tight Sirius thought it would surely snap, as he tried once more to transform and failed miserably. His hands went uselessly to his throat before flopping to his sides, and Sirius Black of the house of Black slumped to the floor, dead.

* * *

"Max! Max!" Dylan rushed towards me, looking frantic.

"Dylan, what is it?" I asked. "Did you find Malfoy?"

"No." Dylan said. "But- Sirius went into the pantry, and he still hasn't come out."

I stared at him. Really? He was frantic because Sirius was stuck in the pantry? "He's probably just being thorough."

"No, it's not that." Dylan said. "I called his name a couple times and he didn't answer. And I was about to go in there, but- you know how in ghost stories people always get that feeling that there's someone else in a room?"

"Uh, sure." I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." he said. "I just- couldn't go in there. Max, I think he's been murdered!"

"That's ridiculous." I said. "How could the person have gotten in there?"

"Well, Sirius and I left..."

"And now since you got scared, if there was some lunatic in there, he's got the perfect opportunity to escape!" I said. "But it still doesn't make sense- wouldn't you have heard something?"

"I don't know, okay, just come with me!" He grabbed my hand and dragged me down the hallway, swerving to avoid objects in the dark. Finally, we reached the doorway to the kitchen.

"Dylan, it's empty. There's no one here." I said.

"Yeah, but the pantry!" he said. He dragged me over to it. For a second, staring into the blackness I could almost feel the fear Dylan described- like I was in some lame horror novel. But no. A lot of bad things may happen in the world, but ghosts weren't part of them.

"This is stupid." I said, and pushed past Dylan, stretching my arms out blindly as I entered the pantry. "Dylan, I don't know what you're talking about, there's nothing-"

My feet brushed against something lying on the floor. I reached down and tentatively touch the object with one hand. It felt fuzzy, like shaggy carpet, or...I quickly pulled my hand back. "Dylan!" I said, voice shuddering. "I found him!"

"What? Is he all right?" Dylan asked.

"I- I- I don't think so." I said, voice cracking. "I can't see him at all." My pulse thrummed in my ears. I had seen many dead bodies before, mutilated by the School, but never had it been quite like this- trying to find the body, in the dark, with no way of knowing when I would come across bloodstains or wounds, or where the killer was. "Dylan, I think you'd better come in here. We've got to get him out. I'm going to try and find his feet."

"All right." I heard Dylan walking into the pantry behind me. I straddled Sirius' body, trying to touch as little as possible of it. Finally I found Sirius' shoes, and gripped his cold ankles. "Dylan, I think he's- he's-"

"Yeah." Dylan said. "I've got his shoulders."

"I've got his feet." I said.

"All right." Dylan said. "One, two..."

We picked up Sirius together and Dylan backed up, slowly taking Sirius out of the pantry. Out in the relative light of the kitchen, it was clear- Sirius was dead. Dylan inhaled deeply. "Okay. We'll put him down on one, two-"

"Well, isn't this interesting."

Dylan and I nearly dropped Sirius's corpse. As we placed him on the ground, we turned and saw Malfoy watching us from the doorway, smiling like he'd just won the lottery.  


"Malfoy!" Dylan said. "If you tell anyone- I'll- I'll-"

"You won't kill me, because I'm going to tell them that you two are the murderers right now. Sirius may be gone, but I'm sure the rest of us combined could restrain you somehow. All we have to do is force you to let us out and then we are golden."

"It's not us." I said, advancing on him. "We didn't do it. We found him this way!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Right. And you just happened to know he was in the pantry?"

"I knew." Dylan said. "He went in there when we were searching and he just never came out. I just went to get Max because I was worried about him..."

"That doesn't seem suspicious at all?" Malfoy said, turning to me. "Your boyfriend right there-"

"Not my boyfriend." I said through gritted teeth.

"-was alone with this man in the room he was murdered in right before he was killed...and you still think he's innocent?"

Dylan's mouth fell open. "I-"

"No." I said. "It doesn't seem suspicious at all to me. You know what does? The fact that you knew to come back to the kitchen. Almost like you killed Sirius- you ran away to scatter the group and lay in wait in the pantry for your victim, and then came back to the scene of the crime afterwards so you could frame whoever happened to be searching there."

Malfoy stopped smiling. "That's crazy."

"It's a lot smarter than the murderers being the ones to discover the body." I said. "Or, I don't know, moving the body to a more obvious location. Wouldn't it be better if the body were never discovered?"

"I don't know." Malfoy said. "I'm not a serial killer, I don't know how your minds work."

"You have to admit, it makes a lot more sense for you to be the killer than Dylan or I." I said. "So if you accuse us, we're going to accuse you. And who do you think they'll suspect? Two sixteen-year-olds, or a full adult with a bad attitude, a known criminal record, and a grudge against Sirius? I think you'd better stay out of our way, Malfoy." I shoved past him and left the kitchen, Dylan behind me.

"Come on." I said. "We have to go tell the others."

Dylan looked anxious. "What if he tells them?"

"He won't." I said. "Why? You have something to be guilty about?"

"No, of course not." Dylan said. "It's just...he's not the person I would want seeing that."

I sighed, exasperated. "Come on, Dylan, relax, I just saved your life." I said.

"Yeah." Dylan said. "For now."


	6. Beyond All Darkness

Sometime during the night, a strange noise woke Prim.

The girl listened, heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't describe it exactly- it had sounded like some sort of animal growl. Just when she was almost convinced it was a strange dream, there was a loud thump from upstairs, and what sounded like a human cry of pain.

Prim's throat constricted. "Katniss?" Katniss didn't answer. "Katniss?" The healer ran to her sister's bed and shook the body lying on it. If something had happened-  


She watched her sister jolt awake and grab for the knife under her pillow. "What? What's wrong, Prim?" Katniss asked.

"Listen!"

They listened. There was another couple loud thumps and some indistinct voices. Katniss stood. "Prim, stay here."

"No! You can't go alone!"

The thumps were getting louder. Katniss glanced up worriedly at the ceiling. "All right, but you have to be really quiet, just like we're in the woods at home. And if I tell you to run away, don't argue with me, okay?"

"Okay."

Silently, the sisters crept out into the hallway, Prim following directly behind Katniss to avoid creaky floorboards. It appeared that they were the only ones who heard the noise- everyone else's rooms were quiet.

"We have to find the stairs." Katniss whispered.

They tried doors on either side of the hall, rooting around on the floor of each room, until Prim's hands felt stairs going upwards.

"Katniss." she hissed.

Katniss hurried over. Together, they looked into the blackness- neither could see, but the pounding noises sounded louder.

The huntress took a deep breath."Okay, let's go."

Prim swallowed and followed her up the stairs.

By the time they'd reached the top, the sounds had stopped. Prim glanced around nervously- the hall was completely silent. Katniss' knife hand was shaking slightly, knuckles white around the handle.

Both sisters heard it at the same time- the squeak of a door and the huffs of someone breathing heavily. Prim suppressed a whimper. Footsteps, slow and careful, creaked out of the open doorway and into the hallway. The healer squinted, but she couldn't make out anything in the gloom, not even a shape of a figure. Then the footsteps stopped, and the prickling feeling on her neck intensified.

Katniss raised her knife, ready to throw. "Who's there?"

There was silence. Prim grabbed Katniss' other arm and squeezed her eyes shut, barely daring to breathe.

Suddenly, she heard another creak, and opened her eyes. The footsteps thudded away until neither could hear them.

The huntress dropped her arm and grabbed onto her sister's shoulder. "Prim! Are you all right?"

Prim trembled. "Who was that?"

"I don't know." Katniss said. "I couldn't see them. But we have to go check that room now, all right? In case someone else needs help."

"Okay." Prim said, clinging to Katniss' hand.

The sisters snuck down the hall. Slowly, Katniss pushed the creaky door further open. "I don't think we're going to find anything in here." she whispered. "It's as dark as the stairwell was."

"Maybe we should just come back tomorrow, with more people." said Prim. She couldn't shake the feeling that something in the blackness was watching her.

Katniss let the door fall closed."I guess you're right. Let's just go back."

They slipped downstairs to their rooms, where Prim got into bed with Katniss immediately. Neither of them slept another wink that night.

* * *

Making breakfast the next morning was just amazing. Malfoy refused to work without Sirius there to control him, Dylan dropped things every time he heard a noise, and I was beyond sick of the both of them. And irritated with everything else, too, come to think of it. Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't I just go to a normal party without it turning into a psycho murder fest?  


I threw my knife on the counter with a clatter. Predictably, Dylan jumped like he'd seen an Eraser and dropped his as well.

"Okay." I grumbled. "Fruit salad, part two, since none of us are brave enough to look for more food in the pantry. Dylan and I will carry bowls, and Malfoy will carry nothing, because he's a selfish princess."

Malfoy sneered at me. "Muggle trash."

I placed my lime slices in a bowl, and hefted it up. "I don't really know what that means, so if you're trying to insult me, you fail miserably. Remember, Malfoy, we can still turn the group on you."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and walked out.

* * *

"Ah, breakfast!" Oz said as we entered the dining room, but he frowned when we set the bowls down. "Fruit salad again?"

"You'll have to show us around your kitchen sometime." I said. "We weren't sure what to make."

Oz's brow furrowed. "Well, G-Glinda was usually the one who cooked...but I suppose I could try to figure it out."

"Great." I muttered and followed Dylan to a seat next to Katniss and Prim. It was a little disturbing how empty the table was getting.

"No new murders in twenty-four hours." Felicity said as we sat down. "Maybe they got what they came for."

I popped a kiwi into my mouth. "Or maybe they just got bored. They're stuck in this house, just like we are. I guess even brutally killing people can get old after a while."

"I know what you mean." said Felicity, snorting. "Not that I'm killing anyone, but there's nothing to do in here."

"I hate being cooped up in places like this." I said. "I mean, it's a big house, but it's so dark and all the rooms are so small. It feels like we're stuck underground or something."

"In a cage." said Eowyn. She stared at her food. "I've always hated being underground. I don't like the feeling of being trapped."

"I know how you feel." I said, thinking about the School and our time there.

"So do I." Felicity said. "In fact, I was trapped for years growing up."

"What do you mean?" asked Dylan.

Felicity made a face. "Boarding school." She pushed food around on her plate, face softening. "But it was still better than this. I had some good friends there. I wonder what they're doing right now."

"I have a husband back home." Eowyn said. "We just got married, we haven't had any kids yet. I met him in the middle of a war." She sighed. "I really wish I could get back to him, and to my other friends."

"I wish I could get back to mine, too." I said. "I wish they hadn't all ditched me here like they did."

"I hadn't seen any of my friends for a while before I came here." Felicity said moodily. "They were all abroad. But I'm sure I'll see them again. I don't know about you, but I've faced worse."

"What about you, Katniss?" asked Dylan, taking a bite. "Do you have anyone back where you came from?"

"I have...a few people." Katniss's eyes flickered as if she were mentally picturing them. "But this type of thing isn't new to me, and most of them are dead."

None of us knew what to say to that cheerful statement.

"Which reminds me," the huntress said, wiping at her mouth with one of Oz's fancy cloth napkins, "there's something I need to talk to everyone about." By the time she had finished telling the story of what her and Prim had heard last night, the entire table was listening.

Fenoglio set down his fork and asked, "You didn't see this person at all?"

Katniss shook her head. "We were looking right at them, and we could hear them moving, and see the furniture around them, but we couldn't see them. They were invisible somehow."

"Peculiar." Fenoglio said. "Very peculiar. Has anyone else seen anything like this?"

"Not like this, but still, there's something." Eowyn said. "Have any of you been hearing whispering in the hallways? Possibly saying something along the lines of 'my precious'?"

I raised a hand. "Dylan, Mr. Shampoo Ad, and I heard one right before Sirius was killed."

Eowyn nodded and took a breath. "Well...there was this creature, back in my world, named Gollum, who used to say that and other things. He was alive for centuries, searching for a ring of power that he called his precious. He would have done anything for it, he murdered his own best friend for it...but it can't be him," she added with a frown, "because he's dead. He and the ring fell into a volcano, there's no way he could be here."

"Was the volcano a really powerful place?" asked Fenoglio.

"I don't understand what you mean." said Eowyn.

"Sometimes places in stories with a lot of significance can be unpredictable. Maybe somehow it got thrown somewhere else instead, like in another story."

"But..." Eowyn's eyes widened. "But the ring was thrown in there, too! We went to so much trouble to destroy it!"

"Look, I'm sure we can just melt it or something if it turns up here..." said Tom.

"No!" Eowyn slapped the table. "The only way to destroy the ring was to throw it into Mount Doom!"

"What does it do?" I asked.

"It turns people invisible."

"Someone in my story could do that on his own." I said. Some bastard in my story, that is...

"Well, not only that, but...it has a strange kind of power." Eowyn explained. "Especially over humans. It drives them mad. They want it, they will do anything and kill anyone for it, they cannot let it go or destroy it, it slowly drives them insane..."

The whole table was silent, contemplating the ring.

"I guess that settles it, then." said Katniss at last. "This Gollum is the murderer. Somehow he and this ring ended up here, and he's been killing everyone because he's insane. Come on, we have to find him and end this." She rose from the table, followed by several others. "I'll go get my knife."

"No- wait!" Eowyn said, standing. "While I agree that Gollum is probably responsible for at least one of the murderers, he doesn't know how to use a gun. We don't have them back in our story. And we don't have electricity, either, he wouldn't be able to work the lights or the- hurricane whatever."

Felicity raised her eyebrows. "Well, yeah, but he still probably killed his best friend. We don't exactly want him wandering around on his own..."

"Yes, but...Katniss, you said you thought you hear two people fighting last night." Eowyn said. "I'm just saying that even if it is him, he wouldn't be working alone."

"We can deal with that after this Gollum is dead." said Tom, standing.

Eowyn sighed. "Fine. I've never seen him, but I've heard descriptions. He's very short, and bony, with shrunken limbs, pale skin, and really large eyes and stringy hair. You'll know him when you see him."

"We should split up this time, to cover more ground." Oz said. "Stay in a clear group of threes rather than run off and get someone killed. Everyone, stay with your kitchen groups."

"Well, actually..." Fenoglio regarded the table, his eyes lingering longest on Dylan and I. "Actually, I think Dylan and Eowyn should change places. I don't think that group works well together."

I laughed. "Dylan isn't why the group doesn't work, that's...wait, are you deliberately splitting up Dylan and I?" Fenoglio avoided my gaze. "Do you...do you actually think-"

Dylan laid a hand on my arm. "Max, it's all right-"  


"No! If Fenoglio is trying to accuse us of something, he can do so openly!"

The author sighed, closing his eyes. "I am not trying to accuse anyone of anything, but since it is very likely the murderer might be two people, we have to take certain precautions."

"And these precautions do not involve splitting up Katniss and Prim, the two sisters from a story where they kill people for fun, because..."

"Don't you dare-" Katniss began.

Fenoglio slammed his fist on the table, sending Katniss back to her seat. Then, he calmly replied, "We are not discussing this."

"No, I want to hear this." I said, standing. "Why do you think Dylan and I are the murderers? We have no reason to do it! We can barely even stand each other!"

Fenoglio raised his eyebrows. "It's just a precaution, as I said, since of the three pairs remaining, you two are the most likely. Tom and Felicity, I'm told, can't work together..."

"Got that right." Felicity muttered.

"...and I don't think Prim is capable. If we're going to assume there's more than one murderer, you two would be the most suspicious compared to everyone else."

Malfoy smirked at me. "Agreed."

"Look, he's not actually accusing you." said Felicity. "He's just saying that he wants you two to split up because you are the most suspicious right now. If you really don't like each other, you should be fine with that, right?"

"Whatever." I said. "Dylan and I will split up. But while we're on the subject of multiple murderers, Tom, Oz, and Fenoglio have been together since day one, even though they're all from different stories. Oz knows the house, Fenoglio knows strategy, and Tom's physically fit. How are we supposed to know you three aren't the killers?"

The table erupted almost immediately. I was really breaking records for pissing people off lately, wasn't I?

"I'll have you know, I am a gentleman-" Tom shouted, face turning red.

"-and my Glinda, my dear, precious Glinda, I would never-" yelled Oz over him.

"QUIET!" Fenoglio barked. The room silenced at once. "That's enough of this for now. Yes, Maximum, that is a very fair accusation, especially since we just accused you and Dylan. But Oz cared too much for Glinda, and while I certainly did not feel the same way about Mortola, I would not have killed her. You'll simply have to trust us and the fact that Felicity will be traveling with us but will be unharmed by the end of the search. Do you have any other objections?"

I balled my hands, staring at the ground. There was nothing I could say against his argument. If he hadn't been accusing me, or me and Dylan, his logic probably would have been perfectly sound. Just...the thought of them suspecting us, suspecting Dylan and I... "Fine." I said.

* * *

Dylan, Katniss, and Prim were among the first to leave the dining room, with the Hatter wandering behind them. "Where did you hear those noises?" asked Dylan. "Maybe we can start there."

"That's what I was thinking. But hold on, we need to stop in my room, first. I want to get my knife." Katniss walked into the stairwell and began the climb.  


"How are you doing, Prim?" Dylan said as they followed behind the huntress.

Prim smiled. "Katniss has been in this kind of thing before, I know she'll protect me. I just..." She looked down at the stairs. "I wish I could get a chance to try and save some of them. I was a healer back home."

"Really?"

"Well, an apprentice. But we don't have any supplies here."

"Max's mom is a doctor." Dylan said. "She's a pretty nice lady. Maybe you can be like her someday."

"I want to." said Prim.** "**My mom used to do it, too, sometimes.**"**

By that time, they were out of the stairwell and in the hall where Katniss' room was. Dylan waited outside with the Hatter while Katniss and Prim searched their room. He heard drawers opening and some wooden objects clanking against each other, and then Katniss emerged, face tense.

"It's gone. Someone took my knife, and my bow and arrows, too."

Dylan struggled to control his breathing. "Maybe you misplaced them?"

"No!" Katniss snapped. "I know where I left them all, I would never have misplaced them! I'm going to search the other's rooms. Prim, come with me."

"Wait, wait." Dylan pleaded. "We can't do that, we can't search people's rooms, and besides, we don't want to get seperated again, someone might die-"

"I don't care! Someone else is going to die soon if I don't get these back! They are deadly-"

"Time." the Hatter said suddenly. "She's here." He pointed a trembling finger down the hall.

Dylan, Katniss, and Prim froze where they were, staring at the empty hallway.

"Gollum?" Katniss took a step forward, curling her hands into fists. "We know you're there!"

There was no answer. Katniss slowly took a few more steps down the hallway, feeling ahead of her, while Dylan and Prim watched anxiously.

Finally, the huntress turned back to them. "Nothing there. I think he was just seeing things."

Dylan let out a deep breath, and Prim relaxed her grip on his arm.

"Look, Dylan, I'm going to check out these rooms, okay?" said Katniss, walking back towards them. "It's for all of our safety. If the killer has the knife and the other weapons, we're in trouble. And anyways, we're already looking for Gollum."

"Fine." Dylan said. "But I'm going to stay out here with the Hatter...or...maybe not?" The Hatter had disappeared at some point. Dylan heaved a sigh. "I'll go find him. He must've gone into the stairwell, he can't have gone far."

* * *

Below them, Fenoglio, Oz, and Tom strolled along, followed sullenly by Felicity. "And then she said even killing people probably gets old after a while." Tom whispered. "What innocent woman would say that?"

Felicity rolled her eyes. "If you were really listening, Thomas Doyle, you would have heard me agreeing with her, but am I the murderer?"

Tom glanced back, tight mouth showing what he thought of that idea.

Before the Victorian woman could retort, Fenoglio raised a hand. "Like I said, we aren't accusing people right now." he said. "It just causes chaos, and that's no help to us right now. What we need is- Oz, what are you doing?"

Oz had stopped in a doorway. "It's Max and Dylan's." he said forlornly. "Where- where Glinda-" He took a breath. "Can I have a moment in here, alone?"

Fenoglio nodded. Oz went in, shut the door, and the trio waited quietly outside.

Until the Hatter ran by, shouting, "Time! Don't let Time waste me!"

"I'll get him." Felicity sighed. She picked up her skirts and darted in the direction the Hatter had gone.

"No, Felicity Worthington, you get back here!" Tom shouted, chasing after her.

Fenoglio hurried after the Victorians. "Stop, both of you, we have to stay together!"After a minute or so, the turtlelike man had to stop for rest. He leaned against the wall, panting. Where had they gone?

Oz, meanwhile, left Max and Dylan's room after a few minutes, looking around curiously at the now-empty hallway. "Huh." he said, before walking back towards the living room.

* * *

Way above them, Malfoy, Eowyn, and I were prowling the dark upper hallway, searching all of the rooms. Well, Eowyn and I were. Malfoy slouched in the hallway, looking bored to tears.

"Seriously?" I said, after the third empty, dusty room we'd checked. "You won't lift a finger even if your life is at stake?"

Malfoy chuckled bitterly. "He's more likely to kill you if you find him. I have no intention of being killed."

"Stop acting like you're so safe." Eowyn said, pursing her lips. "Sirius told us that you don't have the only weapon you know how to use."

"Did he also tell you that the weapon was a wand and we're both from a society of wizards?" Malfoy said. He spread his arms wide. "Oh, whoops, I just broke the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy and it doesn't even matter because we're all going to die!"

I rubbed my forehead. "Wizards? What are you talking about, Malfoy? Never mind, I don't care. We're not going to die, not if we find Gollum, and if you help us-"

"-if I help you, nothing happens! Don't you get it?" snarled Malfoy. "Even finding Gollum isn't going to help us! You heard blondie, he couldn't have used a gun or shut us in. Whatever he is, he isn't alone. Which means even if we find him, there's going to be another, smarter, killer out there!"

"We can talk to him them, and try and get him to tell us who the other ones are!" I said.

"Really? Eowyn, will Gollum be capable of telling us anything like that?"

Eowyn, standing behind me, faltered. "Well, I've never met him, but he might be-"

"Might be." Malfoy said. "So this is pointless. And of course, you've never even met him, you've only heard descriptions, so we might not even know what we're looking for in the first place. You know, it just figures that I'd survive everything, the wizarding war, the trial, everything, just to die here with a bunch of Muggles."

"You're not the only one who's been through crap in their story." I snapped.

"Oh, like you've fought in a war." Malfoy said.

Eowyn sent him a steely glare. "I have. I was in part of one of the biggest battles. I lost my brother and almost lost my father, and our entire land was nearly destroyed."

"And I was imprisoned from birth to when I was about fourteen years old by a bunch of scientists who performed cruel, painful, invasive tests on me and all of my family, but, you know, go ahead and whine about your life among the wizards instead of helping us, that's great too."

Malfoy clenched his fists at his sides. When he spoke again, the desperate tone of his voice had disappeared completely and he once again seemed bored. "I'm not the one talking to a man I claim to hate instead of working, Maximum." he drawled. "One would think you didn't want the murderer to be found."

"The mysterious and all knowing one could say the same about you." I said, turning my back on him. "Come on, Eowyn, let's leave this bastard here. I don't particularly care if the murderer gets him."

"That is not something an innocent person would say!" Malfoy called.

I twisted around, wanting to get the last word, but Eowyn pulled me back. "This isn't helping us."

"Try not to get murdered, Eowyn!"

Even though I wanted nothing more than to go back and use my best Eraser-fighting moves on Malfoy, the warrior had a point. "Okay." I said, through gritted teeth. "Let's go."

We entered and began searching another empty, dusty room exactly like all the other empty, dusty rooms we'd seen so far, in that you couldn't see a thing. It was so dark that Gollum could've been hiding a foot away and I don't think either of us would ever know. Then again, he was invisible, so unless he made some noise...

"Hey, Eowyn, how likely is Gollum to, I don't know, take up opera singing or throw some sort of yodelling party, something?" I said.

"What?" asked Eowyn. She was on the other side of some piece of furniture, rattling at what sounded like a door handle.

"I said, what are you doing?"

"Oh, I just found this door." Eowyn said. "Not sure where it leads-" There was a loud thump. "Got it! Hold on, I'm going to check this room out."

"Okay." I said, and returned to my search.

* * *

Eowyn stood still for a few minutes in the dark room, orienting herself. Behind her, she could Max shifting furniture around, and to her right, Malfoy was creaking around in the hallway, but the room ahead of her was completely black. Something about the darkness made her shoulders tense up and gave her a creepy feeling on the back of her neck. It didn't help that the room smelled vaguely like the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. The warrior did the childish thing and stretched her hands out in front of her, grasping for any furniture, anything. However, her feet found the object on the ground first.

"What..." She leaned down to get a better feel. The object was unmistakable, but how was it possible, that lying on the floor in front of her was-

Her thoughts were scattered by the sound of a door squealing. "Hello?" she called, straightening. And suddenly there was a sweaty hand wrapped around her mouth and nose.

Eowyn fought back with all she had, biting at the hand, kicking out behind her, throwing her elbows back, but she was distracted by lack of oxygen and a dull, throbbing pain in her stomach. She groped down and felt the handle of a knife jutting from her stomach, and the searing pain that followed brought tears to her eyes. The warrior tried to scream as her attacker drew the knife out and stabbed her again, but all she could do was double over onto her hands and knees. Then she felt the killer kneeling on her back, pressing the knife to her neck...and Eowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan, who once slayed the Witch-King of Angmar, was gone.

* * *

Katniss kneeled at the side of the bed, still trying to take in what she saw...or rather felt under the bed. The bed, which clearly belonged to a specific someone.

"Prim." she said, and at first her voice was weak with shock and barely audible. "PRIM!"

Prim hurried into the room. "What is it?"

"I found the knife." Katniss said. "And the gun. And all the rest of the weapons."


	7. Eternal Mysteries

**A/N: Back! If you're wondering what the delay was, I finished the entire story and typed it up, and then considered for a long time holding off on posting until I revised it, because it will be getting some major revisions in the future...however, I think I'm gonna go ahead and post the new chapters now and revise later so I can get on to other projects. Don't worry, there won't be any more long pauses- everything's ready to be posted, so I'm going to post a chapter every week (or twice a week if there seems to be a demand for it). Thank you so much to the reviewers and all those who stuck with me this far! Four years is a long time for a story like this, and (hopefully) has made a difference in writing style and quality, so thanks if you're still reading!**

On the third floor, a dangerous collision almost occurred in the hallway. Oz and Dylan, both coming from the stairwell, nearly collided with the Everdeen sisters in the hall.

"There you all are. I was wondering where everyone was." Oz said. He bent over, panting. "Ohh, this house has too many stairs. If I live through this-"

Katniss's eyes flickered between them. "What are you two doing here?"

"I was trying to find the Hatter." said Dylan. "I thought he'd gone upstairs."

"And I met this young man up there." Oz said. "He's the first person I saw until you two."  


"Where's your group?" asked Katniss.

"I haven't the slightest idea. I went into the room where Glinda, well, that is to say..." He cleared his throat. "And when I came out, they were all gone."

"And you didn't see the group upstairs, either?"

Dylan immediately looked worried. "Wait, is that the other group went?"

"I think so." Katniss said. "If they weren't downstairs..."

"I hope nothing's happened to Max." said Dylan. "Hold on, I'm going to go look again."

Oz huffed something about the stairs, but he followed Dylan into the darkness.

Katniss sighed in relief. "He didn't notice I was holding the knife. Come on, Prim, let's go downstairs. We need to solve a problem."

* * *

Dylan was out of sight before Oz had even begun climbing the stairs. The balloonist sat down on the steps, breathing hard. Then, he quickly rose and hurried to the first floor.

* * *

It took me a few minutes to realize I wasn't alone. One minute, I was comfortably searching the room, the next, I looked up and Malfoy's blond hair glinted in the darkness.

"What the hell, Malfoy?" I said. "How long have you been in here?"

"Awhile. I got bored." Malfoy said.  


"Then why don't I remember you entering-"

I was interrupted by running feet in the hall. Dylan burst in, panting. "Max! There you are! Thank God."

"Why, what happened?" I hurried past Malfoy to reach him. "Is someone-"

"No, but no one could find anyone." said Dylan. "I just thought-"

"Where's Eowyn?" asked Malfoy suddenly. We both stared blankly at him. "She's been silent for a while, haven't you noticed? And Prettyboy just happens to be up here for dubious reasons." His eyes widened. "Hold on, you aren't going to kill me now, are you?"

I rolled my eyes. "We didn't kill anyone. Eowyn's just in the other room. Right, Eowyn?" There was no answer. "Eowyn!" I crossed to the door and pushed it open.

The room was pitch black, and smelled like a sweaty Eraser. Suddenly, I got a very bad feeling. "Dylan?" I called.

Almost immediately, he was in the room. "Is she...?"

"No, I didn't find her, I just..." I hated how weak my voice sounded, how vulnerable I was feeling around Dylan of all people.

"It's okay." said Dylan. "I'll look." I heard him rummaging around in the darkness, creaking over the floorboards. After a moment, I joined him. We searched in silence until he said, "I- I think she's here."  


"So she's-"

"She's cold. Follow my voice." I cautiously crossed to him. Sure enough, when I reached down, my hands hit cold limbs and some sort of wet stickiness I didn't want to think too much about.

"I've got her legs." I said. For the second time in around twenty-four hours, here I was, moving a corpse in the dark.

"I've got her arms. One...two...three."

Together, we lifted Eowyn and carried her back into the other room where Malfoy still stood. I could feel his eyes boring into Dylan and I, and I knew what he was about to say."You were the one that knew she was dead, Malfoy." I snapped. "And that she was in there, even though you weren't in the room when she left."

Malfoy laughed softly. "And you and Dylan just happened to be up here, together, at the same time she died, when Dylan wasn't supposed to be."   


"I didn't see you in the hall when I came up." Dylan said. In his voice was a trace of the new Dylan, the one who had a spine.

"And I didn't see you either." said Malfoy. "Tell me, why would you lie about that? Unless you came up when I was in the room with Max...when Eowyn was being murdered."

"Do you really think-" I began.   


Dylan sighed heavily. "Let's not fight about this. We should just go tell the others."

When we reached the hallway, we found Katniss and Prim walking towards us. "This is the room." Katniss said, pointing to the door next to the one we'd come out of. "It's where the noise was coming from."

"Yeah, well, Eowyn went in there, and now she's dead." I said.

Despite being sisters, the two's reactions could not have been more different- Prim stared at us, wide-eyed, while Katniss squinted as if thinking. "I guess it makes sense..."

"What does?"

"There's something we need to tell you." the huntress said. "We know who the murderer is."

* * *

"Why does no one remember to stay together?" Fenoglio grumbled. He was alone in the hallway- no sign of the Hatter, no sign of Felicity, no sign of Tom, and when he'd doubled back to the birdkids' room, no sign of Oz either. Where was everyone?

One of his questions was answered when the Hatter barrelled out of the darkness towards him, eyes even wider than usual. Fenoglio grabbed his sleeve. "Hatter, where did you go?"

The Hatter stared at him like the turtlelike man was the Grim Reaper, and Fenoglio realized madman was mumbling something.

"What is it?" Fenoglio asked. "What's wrong?" He leaned in closer to hear.

"Tom's time has turned," the Hatter muttered, "Time is turning Tom, Tom's time has turned, Time is turning Tom..."

The author let go of the Hatter's arm as fear flooded through his body, and the Hatter darted away immediately. Then, suddenly, in the direction the madman had come from, Fenoglio heard someone calling for help.

His heart thudded against his ribs as he hurried down the hallway. The author felt like he was in a horror novel now- the hall swam around him, spots appearing before his eyes as adrenaline kicked in. The cries for help turned into coughs, and Fenoglio began running.

Tom was propped up against one of the walls. Fenoglio felt bile rise in his throat- he had never seen blood like that, glinting darkly in clumps all over the hallway. Strange how he could write death scenes gory enough to upset the 'family values' critics, but now, when faced with the real thing, he just felt paralyzed.  


Tom stretched out an arm, pleading, and after a moment of hesitation, Fenoglio took the Victorian gentleman's hand. The smell nearly knocked the author out. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, in the blood. "Oh, no..."

"Funny." Tom rasped. "That's what they said." He broke off, coughing.

"Who did it?" Fenoglio asked. "Did you see them?"

Tom shook his head. "They said, 'Oh no, I didn't mean to!'" For a moment, Tom's face contorted, and Fenoglio realized the boy was laughing. "It was...an accident. I got killed, by a murderer making...a mistake."

"You're still alive, we could..." Could what? No getting out, no bringing help in, unless there was someone who could heal a stab wound without any supplies. "What happened?"

Tom's breath came in short, shallow gasps. "I...ran into...someone, didn't...see them." He moaned loudly.

"It's okay, you don't have to talk." Fenoglio said gripping Tom's hand firmly as the strength leaked out of the other man.

Tom's eyes flicked to Fenoglio's, chest movements slackening. "...noglio...'m...scared..." he whispered, and then his head lolled back and he was gone.

Fenoglio stood shakily, and wiped his hands on his knees, over and over again. Then, he found the nearest vase and threw up in it.

When he looked up, he looked into the cold gaze of Felicity.

"I- I didn't-" he said. "I just found him. I'm sorry, I know you two were-"

"We weren't." said Felicity. "And I know it's not you. The others think they know who it is, and they told me to bring you, so I'm assuming you're not the suspect. Come on."

Fenoglio half-walked, half-stumbled a few feet before Felicity came back and supported him with one arm.

* * *

We'd been waiting for ages in the dining room when Felicity and Fenoglio arrived. For some reason, Fenoglio had blood on his knees.

"Tom." said Felicity, and it was all she needed to say.

"Is that everyone?" Katniss asked. "Where's Eowyn?"

"Gone, too." I said.

"But we're still missing two, aren't we?" Dylan said.

"The Hatter won't understand, and the other one we don't need." said Katniss. "Let me show you what I found." She pulled out her knife and place it on the table.

"Yeah, so what?" I said.

"I found it under a bed." Katniss said. "One that wasn't mine. And I also found Mortola's gun, Eowyn's knife, and another knife that I didn't recognize. I think things are pretty clear."

"Whose bed?" asked Dylan.

Katniss locked eyes with all of us before answering. "Oz."


	8. Petrified

"What?!"

I wasn't sure where the cry had come from- it seemed like everyone in the room was shouting at once. Fenoglio collapsed in the chair at the head of the dining table and rested his forehead on one hand.

"It was under Oz's bed." Katniss repeated calmly. "Oz has been stealing our weapons, Oz knows the house better than he pretends to, Oz has been playing the helpless old man when he's not. You know his story, don't you, Fenoglio?"

The author nodded wearily. "He was a liar. But a well-intentioned one...and what about Glinda?"

"Maybe that was part of the deception." Prim suggested.

"Hold on, how do we know any of this is real?" asked Malfoy. "How do we know that your knife was stolen in the first place?"

Katniss crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. "I can take you up to this room and show you the other two knives and the gun, I'm sure you would love that."

Malfoy sneered. "Oh yeah, but all that would prove was that you can set someone up by stealing the weapons and storing them under his bed. Why would Oz keep the weapons there, anyways? This is his house, he knows better places to hide things!"

"Malfoy..." sighed Dylan.

"I see no reason to trust any of you!" said Malfoy. "I do not know who any of you are, you are all just as likely to be the murderer as anyone else! For all I know, all of you are in a conspiracy against me!"

"Look, Malfoy, maybe you're right about some of that." Fenoglio said quietly. We all fell silent to listen. "We're strangers, we have no reason to trust each other. But we're getting nowhere like that. We are abandoning each other and withholding information. We can't work as a group. We can't fight a mutual threat when we're always splitting up. It's not helping us, it's hurting us, it's slowly killing us, one by one. If we had just trust each other, if we'd stayed together instead of running off on our own, if we hadn't waste so much time accusing each other, I am sure we would've been out of here by now."

"That doesn't answer any of Malfoy's questions." Felicity said. "If Katniss is lying or wrong-"

"Then she is wrong!" Fenoglio snapped. Several characters jumped. "And more characters will die, but characters are going to die anyways, whether or not we believe her! We've had two deaths today, two people with very little connection to each other or anyone else! Do you really think they're going after our jewelry now, or revenge?" Fenoglio was leaning over the table now, nearly shouting. "No! They're going to kill all of us, unless we work together and do something about it. I don't know about you, but I don't want to die here. So we can either go after a likely suspect- even without the weapons under his bed Oz is the host and knows the house- or we can do nothing, argue, and die."

We all stared at each other. Felicity asked, "What are we supposed to do?"

Fenoglio sat again, burying his face in his hands. "You're the fighters, you figure it out."

"I've got my knife." said Katniss after a pause.

"Dylan and I can fight pretty well." I said.

Felicity shrugged. "I've fought some. But I mostly use a bow."

"A bow wouldn't be practical in here." Katniss said. "Malfoy?"

"Nothing." Malfoy said immediately. Of course.  


"But do we want to kill him?" asked Dylan. "If we do, we can't get out of the house."

"We can tie him up." said Felicity. "We've got bedsheets."

"When are we going to do it?" I asked.

Katniss stood. "Now."  


I smiled. Here, finally, was someone who thought like me.

* * *

We ended up leaving Fenoglio and Malfoy in the dining room, because Fenoglio still seemed weak on his feet, and Malfoy obviously wasn't going to help. I was a little worried about leaving Fenoglio alone with Mr. Stopping-A-Killer-Is-Too-Much-Effort, but if it came down to it, Malfoy would defend the author...right?

We went over our plan (aka argued about it) five times before we left the dining room. Katniss had the knife, so she would threaten him into complying. Prim would stay out of the way so she wouldn't get injured- the only reason she was allowed along is because Katniss didn't want to leave her alone. Dylan and I would somehow capture and tie up Oz. As for Felicity...she said she was perfectly willing to question Oz if it Katniss didn't do enough. I was inclined to believe her.

Desperation was clearly not the mother of invention for this plan. Dylan and I split off from the others at our room so we could retrieve sheets and, hopefully, Oz.

* * *

Katniss, Prim, and Felicity waited impatiently outside of the birdkid's room. Finally, Katniss huffed a sigh. "Let's just go." she said. "They'll catch up with the sheets. Oz won't be that hard to subdue until they arrive."

"If you want to go, I can wait here for Max and Dylan, and let them know." offered Felicity.

"What about Oz?" Katniss asked.

Felicity shrugged, leaning up against a wall. "I'm not afraid of him."  


Katniss nodded, and she and Prim walked on through the darkness. For a few minutes, there was no sound, not even from the rest of the house. Then, the huntress heard what sounded like whispering. She motioned to Prim to stay where she was, and rounded a corner.  


The Hatter sat there in complete stillness, staring at the opposite wall. Only the faint motion in his chest showed he was still alive.

Prim peeked around the corner. "Hatter?"

"Don't go near him." said Katniss.

"Katniss, it's fine." said Prim. She knelt by his side. "What's the matter?"

"Time flies by." the Hatter whispered, making her jump. "Time swoops by, time stalks the halls, Time prowls by, the Time is coming, yes, the Angel of Time will strike soon..."

"Hatter, we know who the murderer is." Prim said gently, rubbing his arm. "It's Oz, it isn't Time."

Hatter looked up at her, eyes wide. "Where am I? I went to a party, not a tea party, I was done with that, I went to a party and now I don't remember what happened, but everything is dark and everyone is gone..."

Katniss and Prim traded helpless glances. "Come with us." said the healer. "We're going to get you back to..." Where? Where was safe? "...to the others."

"Nothing stops Time. Time never ends." the Hatter muttered, but he followed.

* * *

I grumbled under my breath as I stripped our beds. Dylan had gone to look for other bedrooms, saying our sheets weren't enough. I think he just wanted to get out of carrying sheets, the lazy mutant. And why did he keep leaving me alone in the dark, anyways?

I sat down on the mattress, suddenly feeling exhausted. When had my life gotten so lonely? Where was Fang, and the rest of the Flock? I always thought when I died, they would be beside me, but they were gone, and all I had left was the moron who had drove Fang out in the first place. And why was I dwelling on this, anyways? It wasn't like me to worry about how lonely I was when lives were at stake.

Then again, in my life, lives were at stake every Tuesday. This whole situation wasn't exactly out of the normal. The thought was more reassuring than it should have been.

"Max?" said Dylan. I looked up to see him watching me from the doorway. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I said. I would just have to concentrate on getting out of here alive, and then I could go find Fang and the Flock, and things would go back to normal. "Why, is something wrong?"

"Well, uh, I found something." Dylan said. "You're not going to like it."

* * *

Oz stumbled down the hallway, breathing heavily. Where was everyone? And why hadn't they done anything about the damn dark already? No one could see a thing. Yeah, the machinery was broken, but there had to be something someone could do to stop him from tripping over his own damn furniture all the time!

And to stop him from running into...a very solid, humanlike object...he looked down at a glinting ring on the floor and up into a distressed gaze.

"But you're-" he began before strong hands were wrapped around his neck. He gagged, pulling at the wrists, and for a moment, the hands released his throat long enough for him to catch breath, but when they came back, they brought a knife with them. Oz fell to the ground with a heavy thud, fingers still probing at the deep gash in his neck. His vision began to fade, darkness swirling around him. He had just enough time to to see the murderer pick up the ring and place it back on one bloody finger before everything was truly black.   


* * *

Dylan dragged me down the hall by one hand. "What, what is it, Dylan?" I asked.

He turned a corner and pointed. Katniss, Prim, and the Hatter were kneeling over Oz's body.

"Did you guys kill him?" I said. "I thought we weren't going to do that!"

"No." said Katniss. "Dylan was the one who found him like this, he says Oz was already dead."

Someone laughed, startling all of us. We looked up to see Malfoy emerge from the shadows. "Wow, great job, everyone. Kill the owner of the house before we figure out how to leave, brilliant thinking."  


"We didn't do it, Malfoy!" Katniss said, standing. "And what are you doing away from Fenoglio?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I got bored. Heard a noise, a thump, I think, and thought I'd come investigate. Isn't that what we are now, detectives?"

"Shut up, Malfoy." I said.

He sneered. "How literate. What a well thought out argument. I am blown away."

"No, really, be quiet." said Katniss, holding her head. "We need to find Felicity and then we all need to get back to the dining room before Fenoglio gets killed, too."

"I"m here." said Felicity. She shrugged when we stared. "The Hatter ran by, and I wanted to see why, and then I heard you all talking."

"The Hatter?" said Katniss.

Prim peered down either side of the hallway. "He's gone!"

"That's what I just said." said Felicity. "He ran by."

Katniss buried her fingers in her hair. "How are we going to get him back now?"

"Let's get back to the dining room first, then we can can send two people out to find him." Dylan suggested.

"Are we just leaving dead bodies on the ground, now?" asked Felicity.

There was an uncomfortable silence, until Dylan finally responded, "No, of course not. Max and I will get them later."

I glared at him. Since when had I volunteered to carry dead bodies up and down stairs?

As we walked back to the dining room, Felicity asked, "So who do you think it is? If it isn't Oz."

"It could still be one of us." Malfoy said. "Probably is."

"No. said Katniss. "It's Gollum, it has to be Gollum."

No one responded. How could we say any different?

* * *

**Any comments, criticisms, guesses? Let me know in the reviews! **


	9. Black as Ink

Fenoglio sat alone in the dining room, still reeling from what he'd seen. Not only had Tom died in front of him, but the gentleman had been so scared, and there had been so much blood...thinking about the smell twisted his stomach and he had to hurry over to one of the large flowerpots Oz had kept in the dining room. Oz, who had seemed so innocent, like a sixty-five-year-old child, as scared as the rest of them...the author and Tom and Oz had formed a kind of alliance, and they'd spent hours trying to work out the murderer together, and now it was just Fenoglio. He would have to do things on his own, or trust one of the others.

As he sat back down in his chair, the turtlelike man heard creaking out in the hallway. "Hello?" he called. "Malfoy?"

The creaking stopped for a minute. Then, it started up again, more quickly than before. Fenoglio quickly climbed out of his chair and followed.

* * *

When we reached the dining room, Fenoglio was not there.

"At least his corpse isn't here." I muttered after a moment of nervous silence.

"Did he say anything about leaving?" Dylan asked Malfoy. Malfoy shook his head.

Felicity waved a hand over her face as she walked further into the room. "Ugh! What's that smell?"

Prim walked over to a pot by the doorway and peered in. "Vomit." she replied.

"Uh, yeah, he did that some." said Malfoy, leaning against the doorframe. "Don't know why."

Katniss grimaced, looking like she wanted to fill a pot herself. "Let's get out of here. We have to find him and the Hatter."

* * *

Fenoglio hurried after the footsteps. Occasionally, they would quiet, and he had to backtrack and listen carefully to find them again. It was frustrating, and tedious, but he was following the murderer. He had to be. Why else would someone not answer when he called? And why else would he not be able to see them?

The author didn't know what this meant. Hopefully the others were staying together like he'd told them to, but the evidence that they weren't was quickly fleeing down the hall. It did mean Oz was innocent- unless the wizard was a very good actor, he was incapable of walking that quickly. Fenoglio had probably just sent the others to find and kill an innocent man. One more deed to add to his conscience. He might as well be the murderer.

The footsteps softened, but now the murderer was panting loudly. Fenoglio followed them deeper into the blackness.

* * *

"For the last time, I don't know where he went!" shouted Malfoy.

"Maybe you should have stayed with him, then!" I sid. "Maybe then he wouldn't have gotten lost!"

"Both of you, quiet!" Katniss snapped. "Try to walk more quietly, we aren't going to find anything being this loud."

As we continued down the hall, we did fall silent for a moment.

And then, we heard footsteps.

* * *

Fenoglio slowed, breathing heavily, as the footsteps grew quieter. "You might as well stop!" he called. "I know you're there and I'm going to keep following you!"

For a second, he could hear nothing, and then the footsteps grew louder.

And this was the part Fenoglio was most ashamed of, because he was not only an avid reader, but a writer of novels about death and murders, he knew all the tropes and tricks and cliches of the horror and suspense genres. The knowledge had kept him thinking clearly and coming up with ideas even in this horrific situation.

And yet, he never saw the knife coming.

* * *

We all fell silent, listening. Even Malfoy shut his mouth for once. The entire group held our breath as the footsteps grew louder until they were right around the corner- and the Hatter appeared in the gloom.

"Okay, this is it." I said, wiping my forehead. "I"m sick of this guy giving us jump scares. Someone grab him and keep him with us this time."

"I've got him." said Prim as she grabbed his arm. Dylan, ever the Boy Scout, copied her on the Hatter's other side.

"Come on, let's be quiet." Katniss crossed over to the Hatter. "Hatter, did you see Fenoglio?"

"Oh yeah, because he'll be able to answer." Malfoy said. "Let's just get the madman to solve this for us!"

Katniss and I glared at him and he fell silent with an eyeroll. The huntress turned back to the Hatter, but he was silent. His face seemed frozen, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

"I don't like this." said Dylan, rubbing his arm. "It's never good when we find him alone."

Felicity folded her arms. "They've already killed three people today, they're probably done."   


Katniss turned away from the Hatter. "That just makes them more likely to keep killing. Bloodlust. We've got to find Fenoglio."

"Oh, so that's what we've been doing this whole time, I'd forgotten." said Felicity sarcastically as we walked on through the shadows.

* * *

Fenoglio staggered and fell back against a cabinet, one hand on the knife blade in his gut. He couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't concentrate on anything in the darkness and thought this was how Tom didn't identify the murderer- the murderer!

"Wait!" he called. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

The author thought he heard a reply, but he couldn't be sure for the blood pounding in his ears.

That was what frustrated Fenoglio the most, in the end- he'd had a good life, long enough to suit him, in which he'd had grandchildren and become a bestselling writer and lived in a pretty house by the coast (and, briefly, inside his own novel), but he would never solve this puzzle. It was too late now. Fenoglio gasped out his last few breaths, picturing Rico, Pippo, and Paula, and then he was gone, into a different story altogether.

* * *

"Four deaths today." Felicity said suddenly.

It took a moment for us to react- we'd been walking in silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts.

"What?" asked Katniss.

Felicity pointed. It took me a minute to see it too- legs sticking out from behind a cabinet.

Katniss crept down the hallway towards the legs, blending into the darkness, until we could barely see her as she bent over the body. The huntress gestured with her hand and Prim walked by me and kneeled beside her.

A moment later, the healer stood. "He's cold." she called. "It's been a while."

"Good eyes, Felicity." Katniss said, with a strange note in her voice.

For a moment, no one moved or spoke. Then, I felt Dylan step forward beside me, and we went to retrieve the body.


	10. A Starved Frog

After all of the day's corpses were carried up to their beds, everyone sat in their familiar positions around the dining room table. The room was quiet without Fenoglio, Oz, and Tom directing the conversation. If the table had been empty that morning, it was nothing compared to how small we were now. I think we all felt about the same- exhausted, and numb. It didn't seem like any of us had the energy to even be upset anymore.

"It's Gollum." repeated Katniss. "It has to be Gollum."

No one spoke for a long moment.

"I guess we should go look for him..." Dylan sighed. After another long pause, he stood reluctantly. "Max?"

"Why am I always the one." I said, but I joined him.

Katniss climbed out of her chair, squeaking the cushion."We'll all go. We can't leave anyone alone again." As everyone stood, Malfoy rolled his eyes, looking like he wanted to protest. Luckily for him, he held his tongue and followed us out of the room.

The house seemed much darker now, after all the deaths of the day. I resisted the urge to grab Dylan's arm for comfort as we climbed upstairs. The Hatter nearly bolted at least twice, but Dylan, Katniss, and I were able to keep a tight grip on him until we reached the top floor.

"It was this room." the huntress said, pointing at a doorway. I wondered how she could remember so clearly- they all looked the same to me. Katniss, Dylan, and I approached the room, and pulled open the door.

"Ugh, what's that smell?" Felicity huffed, waving a hand in front of her nose.

Katniss tentatively stepped forward. "It smells like something rotting."

"Wait a second, this is the same room Eowyn was in." I said, wiping at my watering eyes as Dylan and I followed her in. "It smells the same, anyways."

"Maybe she found something important, and the murderer killed her for it?" suggested Katniss.

"Well, that's a motive for one of the deaths, anyways." I muttered. "We should look for it, then."

"Feel for it." Katniss responded. I made a face.

After a few minutes, Dylan said, "I think I found something. It's down here, at my feet. I- I can't tell what it is."

I hurried over to him, and groped around- on the floor was something vaguely slimy, a long, bumpy something, tapering off into an object bony and unmistakable. "Guys, I think I just found a hand."

"What is it? Is it some sort of animal?" asked Katniss.

"I- I don't know. It's too small to be human." I sucked in a breath to keep myself calm- why had I touched so many corpses lately?- and felt my way up the short arm to a neck and what was probably a face. I nearly stuck my hand in the thing's large open mouth, dodged my way around a nose to bulbous eyeballs, and ran my fingers along what felt like long, stringy hairs. "It feels human, though. It's got the same facial structure and it has hair on its head."

"Let's get it out of here, then." said Katniss, and a moment later, the hair slid through my fingers as she picked the thing up. I wiped my hand on my shirt, wishing for some good hand sanitizer, and followed her out into the hallway. In the dim light, it was difficult to tell what exactly Katniss had cradled in her arms- all we could see was that it was human-shaped, the size of a child, and presumably dead.

"Is it some sort of doll?" Dylan asked. "Some sort of rotting doll?"

I thought I had a good idea of what it was, but I kept silent.

"Let's take it downstairs to get a better look." Katniss said, and, judging by her tense tone of voice, she knew, too.

"Oh, joy, more stairs with the lunatic." groaned Felicity. She grabbed one of his arms, I grabbed the other, and together we managed to get our party downstairs.

* * *

We were an odd group as we entered the dining room- Felicity and I force-marching the Hatter, Katniss carrying the bizarre corpse, Prim scurrying along anxiously behind her, and Malfoy looking as though he were at a particularly boring tea party, with Dylan bringing up the rear. Katniss set the body on the dining room table. It was very short, and bony, with shrunken limbs, large eyes and stringy hair, and was covered in bruises, especially around its neck.

Even the Hatter was silent, sensing the tension in the room. No one seemed to want to be the first one to say it, because we all knew, this was the end. Gollum was dead, murdered. Now we had no leads, no clues, no nothing except six other people around the table, one or two of which were murderers. We, as a group, were finished, done, complete. I sank into my seat, and the rest of the table followed.

Katniss cleared her throat. "Well, I think we need to agree on a few things."

"I think so, too." Malfoy crossed his arms. "I'm not doing your cooking or cleaning anymore."

"Not that you ever did it anyways." I muttered.

"Guys, please, we shouldn't split up." said Dylan. "Remember what Fenoglio said-"

"That was back when we thought the murderer could be someone else." said Katniss, eyeing him. "I know it's one of you, and I just want you to know, if you come after Prim or I, I will show you exactly how I survived two Hunger Games and a war."

"Same if you try and attack Dylan or I." I said. "We've fought off dozens of robots and wolf-human hybrids at once, humans don't stand a chance."

Malfoy laughed. "Oh, really, are you going to keep up that act?"

I gritted my teeth. "Malfoy, watch what you're-"

Malfoy just smirked at me, toying with the tablecloth. "I found you two with Sirius's body. You and Dylan carried it out of the pantry before running to tell the others about it."

"And you purposefully separated from me around the same time that he died." I said, leaning forward to glare at him. "What is your point?"

The blonde aristocrat shrugged. "You and Dylan were also upstairs when Eowyn was killed, when Dylan was supposed to be downstairs, I might add-"

"And you were unaccounted for for a good period of that time." I snapped. "I didn't see you come into the room, Dylan didn't see you in the hallway. It would've been easy to go in the hall door, kill Eowyn, then slip through the other door to the room where I was. And anyways, you were the one that knew she was dead in the first place. Dylan and I were talking about something completely different, and you asked where she was-"

"Call it a gut feeling." Malfoy said, smirk disappearing. "Because every time I've found you two alone, someone has died. Let's not forget Glinda was killed in your room."

"Yeah, Dylan, you were the one who found Mortola, weren't you?" Felicity asked, eyes narrowed. "And the Queen, and Sirius, and Oz**...**"

"And they threatened me to keep me quiet after I found them with Sirius." said Malfoy.

Felicity looked wildly around at the rest of the table. "And all that nonsense the Hatter keeps saying about angels and time...aren't you two the ones with wings? Maybe they've got some killing instinct programmed into them by the scientists who made them. Didn't you say the scientists were evil?"

"Yes- but- we aren't evil!" I cried. It was hard to believe I'd had such a civil conversation with Felicity and Eowyn this morning. "And what about you? You found Fenoglio! It was pitch black!"

Felicity snorted. "It wasn't that dark. Someone else would've seen it if I hadn't."

"They have a point." Katniss said, watching Dylan and I carefully. "You two have been nearby almost all of the crime scenes at the time of death. You've both had a history of fighting and killing, as you just told us, and you're genetically engineered to be good at it, and you're likely to be working together."

"That is not true!" I said. "One, we were nowhere near Tom or Fenoglio-"

"We don't know when they were killed." the huntress interjected.  


"-and -and two, we were engineered to fly and have other powers, and we were given them for tests, not for killing-"

Katniss just gave me a piercing stare, tapping her fingers against the table. "Really? And your lab never made any killing machines? Or experiments that turned out to be killing machines?"

I faltered. "Well-"

"I knew it." Felicity sneered. "Even if they weren't trained to be killers, they're probably unstable anyways. They're mutants."

I pounded my fist on the table. "I'm not a killer! I'm a human being, just like all of you!"

"Except you have wings and a short temper." said Malfoy, raising an eyebrow.

"And you are a wizard and a criminal!" I said. "And Katniss has killed plenty of people-"

The huntress's fingers clenched dangerously. "I did it to save my family."

"And I only killed to save mine." I said. "I know you might not believe it because they all ditched me here, but the other kids I arrived with are my family. Everything I did was to keep them alive. I wouldn't kill just for killing's sake, and neither would Dylan. We aren't the murderers."

"Then who is?" asked Felicity.

"We don't know." said Dylan, sitting with his head hung. "It could be two of you, or all of you for all we know. All of the murders could be done by separate people for completely different reasons. We don't know anything about it." He looked up, something desperate in his eyes. "Look, we all have reasons that we might be the murderer. Katniss, you are the most capable of it, and Prim is the least suspicious one here so you two make a good team. You two also caused two diversions that allowed people to die today, by starting the search for Gollum and and finding the weapons under Oz's bed."

Before Katniss could interupt, Dylan turned to the rest of the table. "Malfoy, you hate everyone here, and I really don't think you would care if we all died. We also know you have a bad history, and that you've been at or around several bodies. Felicity, you seem to care so little about the situation right now, it's like you don't think you're in danger at all. You never seem worried about being able to protect yourself, even though you claim to not know how. The Hatter has been alone the most of all of us, and he's definitely unstable, but he also seems the most scared."

He paused, sighing. "And then there's Max and I. You've made several good points about that, but we're good people, and we would not kill for fun-"

"We can't take your word for that." snapped Felicity.

"And we can't take your word either." said Dylan calmly. "Which is why I've changed my mind. We should split up."

"Good." Katniss leaned back. "Then we're agreed to all stay out of each other's ways. No more eating schedule, or cooking groups, or dining room discussions."

Malfoy stood almost immediately. "Great, finally. I don't have to deal with you all anymore."

"The feeling is mutual." I muttered. "Come on, Dylan, let's go." As I grabbed him and left, I could hear the others doing the same, but I didn't look back.

I was not a freak, or a murderer, just because I had been tortured from birth by the School- how could they even think that? It wasn't my fault that I was born a test tube baby, that I'd never had a normal child because I was too busy going through painful tests and experiments and living in a cage, that I'd killed monsters and wolf robots to protect the only family I had in the world and to stay alive! If I could have been born a one hundred percent human to a loving mother and sister without being either captured or on the run my whole life...well, I still wouldn't want to give up the Flock, despite all their flaws and sudden ditching syndrome, but other than, I would totally be normal and boring and not a "mutant freak".

Bastards. Bastards with a prejudice against avian-Americans. Some horrible part of me hoped they would all die, and some worse, horribler part of me wanted to make it happen.


	11. The Minotaur

Life after we all split up was surprisingly boring for being caught in a pitch black murder mansion. We didn't see much of them, they didn't see much of us, and mostly, Dylan and I stared at the ceiling.   


"I just don't understand." I said again. We'd been stuck on one topic for several minutes. "How could they all turn on us like that?"

"They don't know our story." replied Dylan. "They're not in our minds, for all we know we do think differently than they do. And it's possible, I mean, how would we know they think the same as us without being in their heads-"

"Save the philosophy for people who aren't going to die soon." I rolled over to face the wall. "Oh, what if red to me is a different red than it is for you-"

"Hey, it could happen. And it's probably even more likely with us. Who knows what the scientists did to our brains?"

"Are you saying that we're the murderers?" I said. "I think I'd remember if I'd been running around brutally killing people."

"Would you?"

I sat up and squinted at him. "Are you serious about this?"

"I- no." said Dylan, avoiding my eyes. "I just...think it's interesting. And it might be what they think. They have no way of knowing, and, unless we could get inside each other's heads, we can't trust them any more than they can trust us."

"But we can trust each other, right, Dylan?" I said, trying to keep my tone light. The 'would you' comment was making me a little uneasy.

"Yeah, of course." said Dylan. "I mean, come on, Max, don't you trust me?"

I sighed and rolled back over to face the ceiling. "Look, Dylan, I want you to know that I am still not sold on this whole 'other half' thing and you are still about as close to dating me as, say, Total is. Ew. But yeah, as far as trust goes...I guess I trust you almost as much as I trust myself."

Dylan just smiled. "Good to know."

* * *

"Go away." called Malfoy.

Felicity rolled her eyes and walked further into the room. "I've as much of a right to be here as you do. Being a snob doesn't mean you own the place."

"I'm not a snob, I just find all of you irritating and unimportant." Malfoy said. "I'd rather use my energy to stay alive instead of holding hands and making friends."

"And you're not the only one." Felicity sat in the armchair opposite him, crossing her legs. "Which is why I'm here. Despite what the others said, I really don't have much experience with fighting, my weapons are usually a bow and my razor sharp wit. And I'd rather not die alone and bored. So I figured of all the high-class wannabe ponces I've known- and believe me, I've known a lot- you're probably one of the laziest, and the weakest-looking. I seriously doubt you could pull off half of these murders. I'm going to stay with you."

"I have to have a light build." grumbled Malfoy.  


"What?"

"I play, er, used to play-" He broke off, sighing. "No, you'll never understand. But you don't know anything about me or what I've done. I'm not just some, what was it, high-class wannabe ponce."

"Oh, impressive." Felicity wiggled her fingers. "What, did you get in a schoolboy fight?"

"Yes, actually, several." said Malfoy, turning a page in his book. "With a celebrity, although he didn't deserve his fame until last year. I also survived working with a group of killers and sadists that nearly took over England, you would've been so dead if they had won-"

"No, I'm pretty sure I would've been dead centuries before that." Felicity said. "And, also, really, surviving? That's what you've done with your life?"

Malfoy made a noise of irritation. "Right, you don't know anything about me or my life."

"Then why don't you enlighten me?"

He snapped his book shut. "Maybe I'm not proud of it. I didn't exactly win anything, and the biggest thing I've ever done was horrible, it was such a mistake! I was not one of the good guys, Worthington, and in the end the boy I'd bullied during school ended up saving my arse and all of England while my parents and allies ended up in jail! And now I'm here, and it's all been so pointless."

Felicity stared at him for a moment. "I've done the wrong thing too, you know. I had this friend-"

"Have you ever brought about the murder of a helpless man who'd never been anything but kind to you?" Malfoy snapped. The woman's silence gave him the answer. "Then I have nothing to say to you."

"If you knew anything about-"

"I'm not interested." the wizard said, reopening his book.

Felicity sighed. "You can't even see to read, can you?"

"Sometimes I can, but mostly, it's just to drive away conversations that I don't want to have." Malfoy said. "Like this one."

The blonde woman leaned back into the chair, crossing her arms. "Well, I'm not leaving, I'm not going to be the next one dead, so either we sit in silence or talk."

"Silence." said Malfoy.

"Fine."

* * *

The Hatter had found a nice little nook to curl up in, far away from the others, where he could sit and breathe. He'd thought he was safe, Time's demon was gone, but then he'd realized or remembered or recalled, whatever the word was-

-it hadn't been Time's demon who he'd seen with the man, what was his name, with the fine clothing and the high bearing and the preference for tea, yes, something to do with tea, he had been drinking tea and then he'd dropped the knife or the fork or one of those utensils and the Hatter had seen it, had seen it all, unless he was confused and it had been him with the knife and the tea and back in Wonderland-

but no, it was dark, so dark, while the man with the tea had approached the Angel of Time. For time had both demons and angels to do her bidding, you see, and you couldn't tell them apart except for a funny sort of feeling you got when you were around them, like there was something just the tiniest bit off, just three percent, but no, that couldn't be right, for the demon of Time had been ugly, hideously ugly, with lamplike eyes that had stalked the Hatter ever since he'd been in Wonderland. Time's demon was like a cat, like the Chesire Cat only with less grinning and more whispers, and the Angel of Time was not. The Angel of Time was a pale dragon in the Hatter's mind, breathing firestorms of knives at the poor man who'd had a name like the Chesire cat and also like tea, and then there'd been so much red, so much darkness, and the Hatter had run off only to find the angel striking again and again with pale scales-

but no, that wasn't right, either, for it was so dark, and the scales were dark, rippling like they were made of air, no, it must have been their shine that made him think they were pale. But how could there have been a shine with no light? Unless there was no dragon, only knives, coming from an invisible hand or someone else's hands who the Hatter couldn't quite picture- he could see their arms and hands as clearly as he could see his own, but their other features always seemed to be just on the edge of his vision, and then the voice, too, always where he couldn't see to hear it, ever since the others had gone away, he hadn't been able to listen to the house move without hearing footsteps, slow and pondering, whispering mine-mine-mine-mine-mine, always following him, always following the Hatter, and he knew what and who it was.

It was Time, taking him at last, forcing him to watch the others first, but no, it was Time, claiming him for her own with her dark angel. For although the demon may have been violence, the Angel was vengeance, stalking the halls sometimes invisibly and sometimes as a dragon, looking for the Hatter, looking for all of them, and always whispering mine-mine-mine-mine-mine

Mine.

Mine-mine-mine-mine-mine.

The Hatter squeezed his eyes shut as the Angel (and his end) approached. Time was running out, away from him. She would end him at last.

* * *

"Who is it?" Prim asked, peering anxiously at the hunched figure up ahead.

"It's just the Hatter. Let's keep going."

The healer followed Katniss, glancing at the Hatter as they walked by. "Do you think he'll be okay? And the others who are alone, Felicity and Malfoy?"

"I wouldn't worry too much about them, considering one of them is probably doing it."

Prim bit her lip. "But what if it's Max and Dylan and they're innocent and going to be killed?"

"Look, Prim, we can't worry about them, all right?" said Katniss. "You can't always afford to worry about other people, especially when they might kill you."

"This isn't the Hunger Games, Katniss." Prim said. "Not all of them are going to- or might-"

Katniss suddenly felt a burst of affection for Prim. "These aren't animals we can take home and nurse back to health, Prim. This is more like the Hunger Games than you think. We've got to focus on surviving first and then worry about the others."

"What about Peeta, Rue, Finnick, Mags, Beetee, Wiress, and Johanna?" asked Prim. "You risked dying in the games to keep them alive, and me."

"Not for all of them. And that was different." Katniss said. "I knew I could trust them. And I love you, and the rest were all the allies I had in the game."

"So why can't you make more allies? Because you don't like them?"

"No, I...okay, when it came down to it, I knew that Peeta wouldn't kill me if we were the final two. Same for Rue, and for some of the others, and you. And of course it went both ways, I wouldn't have killed any of them either. The people here...if I were in the final two with Max, or Felicity, or Malfoy, we would be fighting, not picking berries. Even Dylan, although he's harder to get a read on. They would be willing to kill me to survive."

"You can't know that." said Prim.

Katniss decided to let the issue drop for the moment. She hated arguing with her sister, especially when their lives were in danger. "You're right, I can't. Which is why I'm trying to go out and find the killer, instead of waiting for them to strike again. If we find them, we can save everyone here who's innocent, even Malfoy, Felicity, and the Hatter, if it isn't one of them. We won't even have to worry about anyone being alone. Do you understand?"

Prim looked down at the ground. "Yes."

"So do you remember how to walk like we're in the woods?"

"Yes, Katniss."

"Then let's do that." said Katniss.

For several minutes, they moved silently through the hall. Katniss made methodical patterns around the first floor. At one point, they peeked in on Max and Dylan's room- it was dark, and they could hear regular breathing coming from the direction of the beds. A few minutes later, they heard someone walking around on the floor above them, heading towards the stairs, and then Felicity suddenly appeared, sneering at them.

"Just getting a snack." she said. "Not murdering any of you, don't worry."

A few minutes after that, Katniss and Prim worked their way up to the second floor. They were moving along a previously unused hallway when they heard someone whisper, "Mine."

Katniss immediately motioned Prim back. She crept forward, heart thudding, with one hand on the knife at her belt. "If you touch me or my sister, you will die." The huntress heard creaking, like someone standing. "Who's there? If you are innocent, come out right now, if not, I'm going to-"

An invisible fist connected solidly with her temple, and she dropped the knife, temporarily blinded. Immediately, Katniss dove for the weapon, but she was met with some invisible body on the ground_._ The hungtress locked her legs around what felt like their ribcage and wrapped her arms around their neck, trying to keep them down so maybe she could get the ring off-

The murderer stood, still with her on their back, and then slammed themselves back down, shaking Katniss loose and knocking the wind out of her, and then the knife was suddenly flying towards her. Katniss grabbed for a wrist, something she could twist and break, but she was a second too late and the knife entered her belly. It hadn't entered her heart- good- but it felt like she'd been badly poisoned, and Katniss was still struggling to get her breath back. With a groan, she pulled the knife out.

"Where are you?" the huntress growled, shakily standing with her knife raised. "Come out and fight me!" Katniss swung one fist out and connected with something human, but before she could use the knife, she was tackled and pinned to the ground.  


Somewhere above her she could hear Prim screaming. Good, it would call the others- but Max and Dylan were asleep, and the Hatter might not come, and Malfoy and Felicity might not care- she twisted her body and ended up sitting on top of the murderer. Her stomach was pure agony and Prim's shrieks were giving her a headache, but Katniss ignored it all, stabbing at where she thought the invisible body might be-

-and missed, the knife banging uselessly against the floor. The huntress felt a hand grab her wrist, and her arm was twisted much further than it should have been, and she nearly blacked out from the pain as she heard something snap, but she had to hold on for Prim.

Katniss struggled to her feet again, head throbbing, vision swimming, legs trembling, chest and arm feeling electrified. "I don't know who you are," the huntress panted, staggering forward, "but I've survived worse than this and you can't-"

She felt another searing pain in her chest and looked down. The knife blade was protruding out of her chest again, somehow. Katniss tried feebly to pull it out with her unbroken arm as she fell to her knees, but she couldn't make a fist, couldn't grip anything, not when she couldn't breathe like this, and then somehow she ended up on her back looking at the ceiling and Prim was still wailing and Prim, Prim, she had to hold on for Prim-

but then Katniss was suddenly numb, and she couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't fight, as the world faded away.

* * *

"No!" screamed Prim. "No, no, no!" She ran over to Katniss's body, not thinking about anything but Katniss. This couldn't be happening, her sister had lived through worse, she couldn't be dying, not here when the Capitol hospital was so far away. Prim kneeled by her sister, trying to think of a way to save her. She had no herbs, no tools, nothing but herself and the maybe the others if she had time to get them. She could use some cloth and apply pressure-

Then the healer felt a blow to her head and fell, face first, onto the ground. She looked up in time to see the knife hovering above her.

"No." Prim said, eyes welling up. "Please, please let me save her."

The knife hovered there.

"I- I don't know who you are, I can't tell any of the others that, and I c-c-can't attack you, I'm n-not strong enough Please. I w-won't follow you, I'll stay somewhere else, just p-p-please." She was nearly sobbing now, trembling with fear. Prim had to stay alive, had to save her sister.

The knife clattered to the ground. Prim closed her eyes. Instead of a blow, however, she heard footsteps leaving, and then a pair coming closer.

* * *

Malfoy was roaming the halls on the second floor restlessly, looking for Felicity- as much as he disliked her, he didn't want to be murdered- when someone called his name.

"Malfoy?"

He turned. "Who are you?"

"It's Prim." replied the girl. She sounded oddly calm. "Come you come over here, please?"

That set off Malfoy like a Sneakoscope. "Why can't you come over here?"   


"No, I really need you to look at something over here." said Prim, voice breaking slightly. "Please?"

Malfoy considered his options. Although it was one of the most uncreative traps he'd ever seen, the wizard was fairly sure Max and Dylan were the murderers, and Katniss seemed intelligent enough to come up with something better anyways.

"What are you doing?" Felicity said.

Malfoy jumped- he hadn't realized she was nearby. "What are you doing? I thought you wanted to stay together."

"I told you, I went to get something to eat, you didn't want to come-"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't take that long to get down to the kitchen."

"Well, it was dark, and I couldn't find anything, and then, when I came back to the library, you were gone." Felicity said. "Which is why I ask, what are you doing?"

"Looking for you." Malfoy said.

"And I was looking for you. I found you, it seems." Although her tone was casual, the woman's eyes drilled into Malfoy's with all the force of a Legilimens. He held her gaze.

"Malfoy? Are you still there?" called Prim.

The wizard looked away from the impromptu staring contest and down the hall. "All right, I'm coming!" He turned back to Felicity. "Come on, Worthington."

"Oh, well if you ask so nicely." said Felicity. "What is it?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I don't know. Prim won't tell me. But if we're doing this whole staying-together-to-not-die thing, please come with me to find out."

The Victorian lady rolled her eyes and followed. When they reached Prim, they found her kneeling over-

"Oh no, Prim." Felicity gasped, and Malfoy, despite his loathing for Katniss, had to agree.

The girl lay spread eagle on the ground, one of her arms twisted at an impossible angle. Her chest and neck were covered in some dark liquid, but they were both strangely lumpy, and Malfoy realized Prim had made cloth bandages out of clothing. For a moment, he and Felicity just stared.  


"Oh, no, she's fine." said Prim, still sounding calm. "I know how to make her better, and she won't bleed out, she's just unconscious. I don't know what to do about her arm, we might be able to get Max or Dylan to break something to make a splint for her, but when we get out of here we'll be able to fix it just fine...I just...can one of you check if she has a pulse? I'm...I..."

"I'll do it." Felicity knelt beside Prim, picked up Katniss's wrist, and held it for a minute, and then her face fell. "I...Prim, maybe I'm doing it wrong, they didn't teach us much about this, or...you might want to..."

Malfoy crossed to the other side of Katniss's body and placed his fingers on the corpse's neck. "There's nothing you can do." he said after a pause. "She's gone."

Prim didn't collapse, as he had expected. Instead, she pushed Felicity away and said, "No, no, you must be doing it wrong." She felt Katniss's wrist and then, more frantically, her neck. "Maybe it's too faint to feel?" she asked, voice frail.  


Malfoy and Felicity stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. All the Slytherin knew was that he wanted no part of the hysteria that was about to follow. "I'll go get Max and Dylan."   


Felicity nodded and put an arm around Prim. "Look, we'll take Katniss to her bed, and then if she wakes up..."

"No, no, she's going to!" Prim cried. Her pleadings followed Malfoy down the hall. "She's alive, she has to be, I saved her-"  


* * *

I was awoken by a knocking on my door and a strange sense of disorientation. Yes, I was still in the funhouse of hell, but when had I fall asleep? "Dylan? Are you there?"

"Maximum, it's Malfoy, open the door, now."

I quickly crossed the room and opened it. "I thought somebody really wanted us all to keep to ourselves."

"Where's Dylan?"

"I'm right here." said Dylan from behind Malfoy. "I went to the bathroom."

"And neither of you were anywhere near the second floor, of course." huffed Malfoy. "Not suspicious in the least."

"Who is it? What happened?" I asked.

"Katniss." Malfoy said.

* * *

We could hear Prim before we saw her. The three of us turned a corner and found her yelling at Felicity. "I- I'm sorry." said the Victorian lady, eyes looking damp. "I- I don't know what to-"

"She's strong! She survived two fight-to-the-death games against twenty three other people! All she ever did was save my life! This isn't how she dies!"

"Prim, she's gone, I'm so sorry-"

The healer sat down, small frame shaking with sobs. Felicity tried to put an arm around her, but the younger girl shook her off.

"Dylan was using the bathroom." Malfoy reported with a raise of his eyebrow. "And Maximum was supposedly asleep."

"And I was getting a snack, and you were doing God knows what." Felicity said calmly. "Let's skip the part where we all accuse each other and bicker about it. There's something more important we need to talk about."

"What?" Dylan asked.

Felicity pointed at Prim. "We can't leave her alone. We need someone to take care of her."

"Dylan and I can do it." I said immediately. "We've taken care of a girl her age-"

Felicity's expression hardened. "Oh, no, I was thinking I could do it. I have a little sister I live with back home."

"No, really, Max was right about the kid thing, and we've also fought off a lot of enemies with them." said Dylan. "We'll make sure she doesn't get...you know."

"Personally," Malfoy said, walking forward to stand by Felicity, "I have no desire whatsoever to take the girl, but if we're talking about preventing the mysterious 'you knows', I think Felicity would be the better bet."   


Felicity nodded. "So it's settled, I'll take care of her and-"

"No, it is not settled." I said. "Dylan and I make two votes, and you and Malfoy make two. Nothing is settled."

"You two are not taking her, you are born killers, you're the ones most likely to be the murderers-" Felicity began.

"Excuse me, could you repeat that?" I asked. "All I heard was the word 'hypocrite'. Wasn't someone saying we should skip all the accusing this time?"

"We're not letting you have her, and that's final." said Dylan. "It's numbers, too. Max and I can work together to protect her."

Malfoy snorted. "Oh, yes, the two of you will be working together, al right, although I don't see you getting much protecting done."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" I shouted, advancing on him. You don't even want her, you have no place in this!"

"No, I don't, it's just you, Dylan, and Felicity, right?" He laughed again. "I just think it's funny that you aren't even considering what Primrose wants! I'm the obnoxious one of this group, and yet somehow I'm the most levelheaded one here!"

For a moment, no one said anything- Malfoy had a point. Felicity sat down beside the young girl. "Prim? Look, we want you to stay with one of the others from now on, so you're safe. Who do you want to stay with?"

It took a long time for Prim's answer to come from the cavern of her arms. "None of you. You are all murderers."

"No, Prim, don't-" Dylan said, squatting down.

"I told Katniss we should trust each other and stay together, that we should protect each other! I tried to get her to keep all of you alive and then one of you killed her!" shouted Prim. "I'm not staying with any of you! I'm staying with Katniss until she wakes up!" She buried her head in her arms again.

Dylan, Malfoy, Felicity and I looked at each other helplessly. "We can take turns." Dylan said quietly. "Two of us will stay with her at all times. Max and I can-"

"No, you two are not doing this again." said Felicity. "One of you is staying with me, and one of you is staying with Malfoy. We're splitting you up so Prim doesn't end up dead."

"And how do I know you won't kill Dylan while I'm with Malfoy? Or that Malfoy won't kill me?"

"How do we know Dylan won't kill me, or you won't kill Malfoy?" said Felicity, standing up. "We don't, we just know that when you two are together, people die. We want to keep our eye on at least one of you as much as we can."

I laughed. "Since when were you and shampoo boy working together?"

"Since we have a common enemy." said Malfoy, looking steadily at Dylan and I. "I was with Felicity for several hours today, and we're still alive, and no one has seen the Hatter. It's the two of you. We can't make you confess, we can't make you let us out, but we can keep you from killing anyone else. If we can't use force, we're going to wait you out. We'll get out of here, and get the two of you to justice, no matter what we have to do."

I made a mental note to self to one day list all of the vaguely supervillainous things Malfoy had said over the past few weeks. That one probably topped them all.


	12. Up Above The World

Felicity and Dylan sat mutely outside of Prim's room. Every few minutes, they pushed it open a crack to check on Prim- she was always pacing, or lying next to her sister, or sitting on the floor looking lost. After several rounds of this, the awkward silence became too much, and Dylan cleared his throat. "Uh...I feel bad for her."

Felicity's eyes flashed with disdain. "You should."

"I didn't do this. And neither did Max."

"Mmm."

There was another long silence. Felicity tugged at one sleeve. "You know, if you just let us out, I'm sure Malfoy and I would be happy to let you go free."

"I told you, we don't know how." said Dylan tiredly. "If we did, we would leave. We would let everyone out immediately."

"Hmm."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Because who else could it be?" Felicity shifted so her legs were tucked under her. "Malfoy didn't kill me yesterday, and the Hatter is scared."

"Maybe he's scared because he isn't in control of what he's doing." Dylan said. "He is some sort of crazy, right? Maybe he doesn't even realize he's doing it until it's done, and he can't stop."

Felicity arched an eyebrow. "Look, I've met some madmen, Tom used to work at an asylum full of them. But I've never met any like that."

"Do you think they'd be in an asylum?" Dylan asked, resting his chin on his knees. "Maybe they let him out because he caused trouble there, and he was too dangerous."

"That's what prisons are for." Felicity said. "What kind of people would let someone go free who was like that?"

"I don't know." said Dylan. "Not very good people. But the Wonderlanders don't seem very sane, do they? Maybe it was some sort of sick experiment."

"Experiment?"

"Yeah, they just wanted to see what he would do." Dylan stared down at his knees.

"You're crazy." Felicity said, rolling her eyes. "Almost as crazy as the Hatter."

Dylan fidgeted, staring down at his jeans. "We should probably check on Prim again."

Silently, Felicity stood and pushed open the door. Prim was curled up on her own bed, fast asleep.

"I feel bad for her." Dylan whispered. "Really bad."

* * *

I was making myself a late lunch when suddenly Malfoy pinned me to the counter. "Where are they?" he barked.  


I twisted around and shoved him away. "Back off, princess. And if you try that again, I will kill you."

Before I could stalk out, Malfoy grabbed my arm. "You're not getting away, Maximum. Where are they? The knife, the gun, all of the weapons that were under Oz's bed?"

I shook him off, backing into the hallway. Good, maybe if this escalated a little further, I could finally punch him as I'd wanted to since day one. "If I were the murderer, do you think for one second I would actually answer that question? And what do you need them for, anyways?"

"I was going to hide them from you and Dylan." Malfoy said stiffly.

"Oh, really?" I said. "Well, I don't have them. Felicity probably moved them, or maybe Dylan really has been hiding a secret dark side, so why don't you go back to pissing off as you British say, and I'll go back to my sandwich- oh my God!" Malfoy had suddenly pulled out a freaking knife and was pointing it, bladefirst, at me. "Where- what- you're the-"

"I got it from the kitchen, Maximum, don't get excited." Malfoy said. He stepped forward, resting the cool tip of the knife against my neck. "I may not know how to use most of your Muggle weapons, but this seems simple enough. Now tell me, where are the weapons? Better yet, show me, or you die right here."

For a moment, I was too paralyzed with shock to react. Malfoy was actually the murderer? All this time, all theses deaths, we were getting schooled by a guy who probably spent an hour in the shower every day? "Wait, so you're the killer?"

Malfoy's eyebrows twitched. "Drop the act." he spat. "I know it, Felicity knows it, everyone in this house knows it, you and Dylan are the killers! Just give back the weapons and let us out or I'm going to kill you!"

Although his anger probably wouldn't stop his bloodthirst, I was grateful for it. The angrier he was, the easier it would be to distract him and get away. "Oh, come on, you have to admit that's a really cool way for a serial killer to kill his victims, convince them that they're the killers, although I don't see how it would work, seeing as you're the one who's killed people and I'm-"

Malfoy's face paled suddenly, and I knew I had gone a little too far. But if it meant he had killed someone, then he was the murderer-

"Die." he said. Nice mind reader, isn't he?

"Many people have tried that on me." This I could do. Taunting and getting out of tight situations was my specialty. I grabbed him by his knife arm to tug him off balance, and kneed him in a very sensitive place as hard as I could. "Somehow I don't think you'll be the one to succeed."

Malfoy grabbed my arm again and jerked me back. "Stupid piece of Muggle trash!" he shouted, shoving me onto the ground. "You've just made an enemy you're going to regret. Even when you get out of here, I'm not going to leave you alone. Do you know how many spells we wizards know to cause pain? Some of them have driven people insane-" He loomed above me, spitting his words, eyes bright with blood lust.

"I would be terrified of this if I didn't already have so many other people determined to track me down and hurt me." I scrambled backwards. "What can I say? I'm a busy girl, I have many archenemies. You know what I was fighting off daily when I was fourteen? Well, better question, do wizards have werewolves?"

Malfoy growled and dove at me. I rolled away, banging my shoulder on a cabinet- damn Oz, putting furniture in narrow hallways- and sprang to my feet. Malfoy threw his weight forward around my ankles and pulled me down again. For a moment, my head collided with the stupid cabinet and I saw stars, and then Malfoy was on top of me with his knife at my neck. "You're dead." he hissed.

I tried to push him off but I was still disoriented, and then all I could see were his wild eyes and the smell of sweat was everywhere and then- I must have blinked, because he was falling backwards like he'd been struck hard in the head.

I hopped to my feet. "Malfoy?"

Malfoy didn't move. What had happened?

It didn't matter now. All that mattered was making sure he couldn't hurt me when he woke up. I leaned over him and snatched the knife out of his loose fingers, right as I heard footsteps approaching.

Thankfully, it was Dylan. "Max? What happened? Did he hurt you?"

"No." I said, straightening up. "I don't know what happened. He attacked me, he said the weapons disappeared from Oz's bed, and he was about to stab me when suddenly he was- he was like this. Do you- did you see anything?"

"No, I didn't." Dylan kneeled by Malfoy's side. "I thought I heard fighting, so I came to investigate. The weapons are gone?"

"Yeah, and Malfoy thinks we took them. Dylan, he just tried to kill me, he's got to be the murderer!"

"Yeah?"

"Well, this is great!" I said, pacing. "We've solved it! We can- we can force him to let us go or- get out of here. We can tie him up or something. We have to go tell Felicity!"

Dylan watched me with a frown on his face. "We have to convince her. You know Malfoy would never admit it."

"That's true." I stopped, shoulders sagging. "But if we keep him tied up and gagged it won't even matter-"

"In order to do that, we'd have to tie up Felicity, too, because there's no way she'd believe that the people who bound and gag someone aren't the murderer-"

"I just want to get out of here, Dylan!" I said, running a hand through my hair. "I'm sick of this place. I hate being cooped up, I'm sick of all of these people and missing the flock and worrying that at any moment some invisible sadist is going to brutally murder me. I am so tired of it, I don't care what we have to do, please, Dylan! How are you not going insane from this?"

The next thing I knew, Dylan had his arms around me. Maybe it was from the adrenaline of nearly being killed, or the fact that he was my only friend left in the world, or the whole impending-doom thing, but I wrapped my arms right back around him. We stood there for a good thirty seconds or so, and maybe it did make me feel the tiniest bit better, although I'll never tell him.

"I feel the same way." he said gently. "We all do. And I get angry at the others, too, I was accusing them yesterday, but we can't sink to the killer's level. We've got to treat each other like human beings if we want to get out of here alive."

I laughed. "That's awfully high and mighty for someone who was all ready to tie up Oz a few days ago."

"Yes, well, I didn't want to say anything about it at the time because I knew I'd get attacked. And after we were accused at breakfast yesterday morning and they threatened to tie us up, I don't want to-"

"MINE!" rattled a voice around the corner. We jumped apart, Dylan shrieking.

"Who's there?" I took a few steps forward, but no one answered. Then, the Hatter peeked around the corner. The Hatter probably rambled about mines, didn't he?

Dylan pointed, hand shaking. "Max." And then I saw it.

The Hatter's midsection was a mess of blood, splashed and swirled all over his fancy jacket. He wobbled towards us with a hand to his middle.

"Time turned on me." he gasped. "Time turned on me." The Wonderlander coughed into a sleeve, and when he lowered it, I saw dark stains that meant he'd been coughing up blood.

"Oh my God. But Malfoy is here-" I felt frozen by the sight.

Dylan rushed to support the Hatter. "This might not have been recently, he's been bleeding for a while. How long have you and Malfoy been in each other's company?"

"Probably not more than two minutes, or less."  


"Then it still could be him. Sit down." he said to the Hatter. I hurried over to help, and the Hatter stared up at me, eyes round as an infant's.

"You're- you'll be-" I couldn't think of anything to say.

"Time," he whispered, "time, t-t-t-t-time-" He broke off, moaning.

Dylan gently lowered him to the ground. "Don't try to talk."

The Hatter ignored him. His speech was nearly incomprehensible through his coughing and groaning. "Time...time was an angel, a dragon, dark, and pa-ale, and she's mine..."

"Shhh." Dylan stroked the Hatter's bangs back.

The Hatter grabbed his wrist with one hand and looked urgently at him. "Time...flies..."

His grip slackened, and his head lolled to one side. He was still breathing, but shallowly, and we both knew he didn't have long. We weren't going to be getting anymore information, not that we'd gotten much in the first place. "Time flies?" I said. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't laugh-"

"I'm not laughing, it's just such a cliche-"

"I don't believe it." Felicity said. We looked up to see her staring at us. "I thought maybe when Dylan left to use the bathroom that it seemed a little suspicious, but I didn't really want to go into the room with him. And then you kill the Hatter and Malfoy-"

"Malfoy's not dead, he's knocked out." I said.

Felicity laughed. "Oh, wonderful! So you haven't killed him yet, wonderful! What, you didn't want to kill both at once? Had to wait for the Hatter to die first? What happened, did Malfoy rudely interrupt you while you were stabbing the Hatter?"

I stood, clenching my fists. "What happened is Malfoy attacked me. I was minding my own business, making a sandwich, when he came after me because he thought I'd moved the weapons, and then he pulled a this knife on me! So really, it seems like you're putting your faith in the wrong person-"

"Oh, yeah, I'm going to trust someone with a knife standing over a bunch of stab wounds!"

"Here." Dylan gently took the knife from my fingers. "You can look for yourself. There's not a speck of blood on it."

Felicity examined it, eyebrows raised "You could have wiped it off."

"Not this cleanly." said Dylan. "And where would we have wiped it off, anyways?"

"The Hatter's jacket?"

"Do you see any regular lines of blood on there? It's just splatters."

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Fine, then you could have gone into another room and wiped it there."

"Feel free to search all of the nearby rooms." said Dylan. "You have the weapon, don't you? Although if you're responsible for this, we could probably kill you without a knife."

"Comforting." Felicity muttered.

"And why would we wash off a knife if we're about to kill Malfoy with it anyways?" I said, crossing my arms.

Felicity hmmphed as she examined the knife. "I don't know how you lot think. But fine. Let's say I believe you. How did the Hatter die, then?"

"We don't know." said Dylan. "We found him like this, or actually, he found us. After Max knocked out Malfoy, we were talking, and then he came out of the corner with blood all over him, rambling."

"How long do you think he was like that?" asked Felicity.

Dylan shrugged. "Hard to say. It probably took a while for him to lose that much blood."

"So we still don't know anything, because you were taking your little bathroom break..."

"And Malfoy was looking for the weapons, and I was making a sandwich."

Felicity slumped down onto the ground. "Great. Just great."

Below us, Malfoy groaned.

"I don't think I should be here when he wakes up." I said. "Either he's the murderer and he'll try to kill me again, or he's just really, really pissed off-"

And then I noticed Dylan- he had the knife behind his back, pointed slightly in my direction. I didn't remember him picking it up, but I got the message anyways. Take the knife, hide it, so no one else can use it.

I hurried over to him. "I'll go check on Prim." Felicity nodded, and while she was watching Malfoy, I grabbed the knife and walked down the hall towards Dylan and I's room. Yes, I realize the hiding-weapons-under-the-bed thing was a cliche by now, and also highly suspicious, but if someone was going to try and steal the knife, I wanted to be able to protect it. Besides, Felicity and Malfoy already thought we were murderers. I don't think anything I did from now on could make a difference. I kneeled at the bed, intending to slide it under quickly, but as I was doing so, it knocked against something else. When I pulled the object out, I nearly gasped. "Oh my God..."


	13. Impact

I dropped the object immediately. Because this, this made no sense. All the rest I could accept, the rings and alliances and whispers and Hatter's ramblings, but this was so...so nonsensical that for a moment I nearly laughed out loud. How else could I react to finding all of the weapons under my bed? All of them were there, every single one.

It made no sense. No sense at all. I didn't put them there, I had no memory of it, unless Dylan's wackjob amnesia conversation two days ago actually was serious. And who else would put weapons under my bed? Dylan, maybe, but if he was the killer, why choose a spot so completely freaking obvious, where I was sure to notice? Why not put them in someone else's room, to deflect suspicion? And if it wasn't Dylan...I would say it was Felicity or Malfoy trying to play some mind game, but it seemed incredibly dangerous to give weapons to an enemy. Why?

Unless...Dylan found them, and he hid them there to keep them away from the others. I would have to ask him. I hurriedly shoved the weapons back under the bed and left the room.  


When I reached the spot in the hall where the Hatter's blood still stained the floor, it was deserted. Felicity and Dylan were probably carrying the Hatter's body upstairs, but Malfoy...Malfoy's absence made me nervous. As I scaled the staircase to the upper floor, I could fully understand the meaning of keeping your enemies closer. I was so busy reflecting on this I didn't notice the figure on the landing until I'd already been shoved backwards and down the stairs.

Luckily, as a bird kid, I'm pretty used to falling, but the force of the landing left me gasping on the ground. I heard someone thudding down the steps, and a moment later a pair of knees were on my chest, cutting off most of my oxygen as a I struggled to regain my breath. Malfoy's face swam into view- he looked demented, features twisted with rage.

"Can't fight me now, can you?" he hissed, wrapping his hands around my neck. I clawed at his grip, but I was still out of breath. "You know, I've decided I don't need you alive, after all. You're too dangerous. I kill you, and then Dylan knows I'm serious-" he pressed down, and spots danced before my eyes- "and then I get out of here and go back home."  


I pushed at his shoulders weakly, but he was too heavy for me when I was this disoriented. I knew I didn't have much time left before I blacked out.

Malfoy leaned in close until his mouth was level to my ear. "And I hope you feel this, Maximum, I hope you feel every inch of this, for thinking you could do this to me." Blood pounded in my head, half-drowning out his words. "I am not one of your murder victims, I am heir to the Most Ancient House of Malfoy, and I survived being on the losing side of the war, with people more brutal than even a monster like you could imagine." Another press, another painful gasp of air. "I helped kill the most powerful man in my society. So you can murder the others, you can shut off all the lights and trap us here and play the innocent, but you will not have me. Do you hear me? You will not have Draco Malfoy-"

I couldn't focus, couldn't breathe, could barely think, but I wouldn't stop. I had done a few things of my own, too, and Draco Malfoy the pretty boy with his shiny hair was nothing compared to what I'd faced before. So I reached up, grabbed a handful of his shampoo commercial hair, and yanked as hard as I could. His hands flew up to his head as I heaved in deep gulps of air. I quickly shoved him off and climbed to my feet.

"Look, I don't know where you got the idea I was the murderer," I said, voice rough, "but last time I checked, you're one of the only ones left here who has actually threatened to kill someone. And maybe you were a bad guy in your war or whatever, but I know a thing or two about fighting bad guys and I know that there has never been a bad guy I have not taken down. You're a self-important nothing, Draco Malfoy, nothing but a wimpy rich boy with nice bone structure-"

"-and you're nothing but a whiny teenage girl." Malfoy countered as he stood. "You spend all your time complaining about Dylan and arguing with him. You're too unintelligent to realize when things are being done for your own good, or when people are trying to help you."

I assumed a fighting position as he advanced. "I'm the whiny one? You wouldn't even do dishes, never mind look for the murderer who's going to kill us all!"

"That's because I know exactly who she is." Malfoy said. He swung back to punch me, but I grabbed his arm and slammed him into the railing on the stairs. He picked himself up, and advanced again, backing me into a corner. "I've known, ever since Glinda was killed after she hung around Dylan. Don't like having your boy toy around, oh no, but when others try and take him away from you-"

"Dylan is not my boyfriend!" I snapped, bracing myself against either side of the corner. I jumped up, kicking him squarely in the chest, and he fell against the opposite wall. I followed and punched him in the face, again and again, until I heard something click. "And this is how you punch someone, poncy boy! I guess they never taught you that at rich school, did they?" Warm, dark liquid stained my fists. "I am not the murderer, but if you ever attack me again, I might make an exception-"

Malfoy grabbed my shoulders and headbutted me in the chest, sending me back into the railing. I winced and fell hard onto the stairs.

"Oh, I know how to throw a punch, Maximum." He proved it by slugging the side of my head, nearly blinding me for a minute. "I picked up a few things in the war, you see. And maybe I'm not as good as you-" He punched me again, knuckles connecting with my eyebrow, and I felt my whole head vibrate- "but I can still throw a punch, and I'm much larger than you." He picked me up and slung me roughly back onto the stairs. My head cracked against a step and I saw stars. "So I wouldn't bet on the chances of you making it out of here alive. This is the end, Maximum Ride." Malfoy reached a fist back again- and then he flew backwards, out of the doorway and into the hall.

I wanted to go after him, or maybe flee, but my head was spinning and my body weak from the punches, and I couldn't stay in control much longer. The last thing I remembered was pulling myself up with the railing, and then the world went black.

* * *

For a moment, after Malfoy was shoved into the hallway, he thought maybe Max had pushed him and then blacked out. Then, however, he felt some invisible force slam into him and he was slammed against the wall.

"Put on the ring, Maximum?" he gasped. "It won't save you. Or is this Dyl-aaaaugh!" He felt knuckles slam his eyebrows and his head went back into the wall.

"Mine." hissed a voice, close enough he could feel breath on his ear. Another fist crashed against the side of his head, and he nearly passed out. Strong, hands lifted him up by his neck and pressed him into the wall again.

He tried to scream, but couldn't get any air in his lungs. The hands tightened around his throat as Malfoy slid to the floor, and then he felt knees on his chest. For an instant, the hands disappeared, and Malfoy gulped in air, feeling dizzy and nauseous and weak. Then, something sharp and cold slide across his neck. He inhaled in pain.

"Your turn." whispered the voice. Malfoy struggled to try and identify it, but he couldn't concentrate past the pounding pain in his skull and heart. He felt something wet land on him- spit?- and suddenly the weight left his chest and he was being dragged back into the stairwell. Hands lifted him up by the armpits, and then Malfoy was dragged bumpily up the staircase, and he realized what was happening and tried to kick, to fight back-

-but it was too late. "MINE!" rattled the killer, and Malfoy was thrown, headfirst, down the stairs. He had barely an instant of panic to feel something in his neck crack and sting in a way it wasn't supposed to, and then there was nothing.  


* * *

It took a while for me to come back to consciousness. When I did, for a few minutes, all I could concentrate on was the darkness around me and the throbbing pain in my head. I had never wanted my fast-healing bird genes to succeed more. Finally, after spending a few minutes taking deep breaths, I stood. For a moment, the blood rush blinded me, and I slipped down a few stairs- and landed next to something soft and undeniably human.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." Malfoy's body was twisted, with his bluish face tilting at an awkward angle and blood slowly oozing out of a small wound next to several bruises on his neck. But how? Some of the damage was from me, but how had he gotten this bad? And I had been in here the whole time, why hadn't I been killed?

"Max?" I nearly jumped out of my skin as Dylan took a step forward from the doorway.

"Dylan!" I said. "Oh my God, Dylan, come in here, I-" I felt along Malfoy's wrist, hoping, but there was no pulse.

Dylan hurried in. "There you are! I've been looking for you! What happened?"

"Malfoy." I said. "Can you help- can you help me carry..."

He nodded. "Right." We assumed our usual positions and lifted Malfoy into the hall. "What happened?"

"I don't know!" Together, we placed Malfoy down on the ground. "That's what's wrong! Malfoy was attacking me, I fought back, he got the upper hand for a minute, but then he went flying out into the hallway or- or- I think he did, my memory's not too clear- and I blacked out. And when I woke up, he was like this."

Dylan scratched his head. "That makes no sense."

"Oh, thanks for that, Dylan, that's really helpful!" I snapped, and immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry, I just..."

Dylan shrugged. "No, it's fine, you're stressed. Was it like what happened last time when Malfoy attacked you? He was about to win, when he went flying off you somehow?"

"Yeah, but...I don't know, I don't know what's going on." I said. "Dylan, I found all the weapons under my bed. Why would they be under there?"Dylan's shocked stare gave me no help. I turned away from him, pacing. "And now Malfoy has twice been- I don't know! I black out standing up, and when I wake up, he's dead! Dylan, I know you weren't serious with your whole killer-amnesia thing, but- what if I'm doing it, and I don't know?"

Dylan bit his lip. "Look, maybe you should calm down."

"So you think it might be true." I crossed my arms. "The School programmed some sort of killer gene in me, one that hasn't been activated until now when I'm separated from my Flock and trapped in this psychotic death house, and now I'm killing people without knowing it."

Dylan lifted his hands and walked forward. "Well, yes, that's one possible explanation, but then what about the lights? How did they go out?"

"Someone else in the flock?" I said. "Or a timer, or something-"

"Well, I know a thing or two about genetic engineering, too." said Dylan. "And I know a thing or two about you. I don't think the killer you would have that much foresight."

I had to let out a laugh at that. "Thanks. But then why put the weapons under my bed? And why kill Malfoy and leave me?"

"I- I don't know." Dylan shifted nervously. "Maybe- they want to protect you?" At my look, he backtracked. "I mean, I know it doesn't make any sense, but they saved you from Malfoy twice, killed him the second time, and gave you all the weapons in the house so you wouldn't have to worry about anyone else. Maybe they're just trying to keep you safe."

"But why?" I said. "And who would even do that?"

Dylan looked down at the ground. "Well, maybe because-"

"What the hell is going on here?" Felicity snapped.

We turned around quickly. "I- I found him like this." I said.

"There's only so many times that excuse will work, Maximum." Felicity said, stalking forward. "Especially when us three are the only ones left capable of this, and your hands are covered in blood."  


"Then why are you confronting us?" Dylan said, taking a step forward, and the tone of voice was enough to remind me that not all mutants were the cute and cuddly sort.

Felicity stood her ground, frowning. "I was hoping you'd be decent and give in. For Prim's sake. Or even if you're not decent enough to stop for that, why not be satisfied with killing everyone but me and Prim? Isn't twelve people enough? A round dozen?"

"We could say the same to you." I said. It was all clicking now. Dylan and I weren't the murderers and Prim definitely wasn't, so that left one possibility- Felicity. Even if it made little sense with the killer's recent actions- "Dylan, I think we should go to Prim's room- now."

"Agreed." Dylan said, and we took of running, ignoring Felicity's shouts behind us.

* * *

**A/N: Only four chapters to go after this one! Thanks to everyone who's still reading this far!**


	14. The Sacrifice

As Dylan and I raced through the halls, the adrenaline was enough to nearly make me dizzy. Finally, we had an answer- a nonsensical answer, but an answer nonetheless. "So here's what we do. We get Prim, keep her with us, and then we go down in the basement and do what we need to do to fix the controls. If Iggy can build bombs blind,we can manage one control panel."

"Right."

"You try to keep Prim calm, you're good at that sort of thing."

Dylan quirked an eyebrow. "You're the one who raised the Flock, aren't-" He went down, landing face first on the ground. I quickly crouched to help him up.

"What was that?" Dylan glanced around, rubbing his nose. "There's nothing here-"

"Never mind, let's go." I said, and we kept running. Prim's doorway loomed ahead of us in the blackness.

Behind us, we could hear Felicity's footsteps pounding against the hall floor. "I'm not going to let you do this!" she called. "You cannot kill Prim!"

"Why does she keep lying?" I panted as we entered the room. "We know what she is now, there's-"

"Max." said Dylan, and I realized what I was seeing- or rather, wasn't seeing.

Prim's bedroom was empty.

I whirled around. As Felicity ran towards us, I grabbed her and pushed her against the wall. "Where is she? She is young, and terrified. Where. Is. She." It occurred to me suddenly Prim was around Nudge's age-  


"Probably fleeing from you." Felicity spat. "Too bad you couldn't murder another innocent, right?"

I shoved her again, sending her to the ground. "Enough lying!"

Felicity laughed wheezily. "You still think I'm the liar? Because if you're telling the truth and you really don't know where she is, that means your boyfriend here is keeping some secrets from you-"

Dylan caught my arm before I could punch her. "Look, this isn't helping." he said. "We need to find Prim."

"Don't let him kill her!" Felicity called as we dashed away.

Dylan ignored her. "We need to find her fast. At best she just wandered off and Felicity's looking for her, at worst Felicity's already found her-"

"We don't have time to think about this." I said. "We should split up. We can both take Felicity in a fight, and it'll help us find Prim faster."

Dylan nodded. "Yeah, good idea. I'll go left here. See you soon, hopefully." He turned away and I was alone.

For several minutes, I searched in silence, trying to calm my tumbling thoughts long enough to concentrate on trying to see something in the blackness. It had to be Felicity, but there were still so many things that didn't make sense, like the weapons, and her motives. But the weapons had been under Oz's bed at one point, hadn't they? So maybe she was trying to frame him, and now me, to turn Malfoy and Dylan against me...too late for Malfoy, though...but she seemed genuinely convinced we were the murderers.   


My thoughts scattered when I heard a high-pitched scream, and I immediately turned and sprinted towards the sound. "Prim! Keep screaming!" I wasn't sure if she heard me, but she shrieked again as I clattered down the stairs, nearly falling in my haste, and burst out into the hallway.

She was lying in a huddled heap on the floor, just down the hall from the stairs. I couldn't see any injuries in the dim light, but she was clearly barely conscious. "No." I whispered, kneeling and cradling her in my arms.

The girl turned her head to look up at me- there was what looked like a dent in the side of her head, with dark patches of blood-clumped hair around it. "Katniss?" she gasped.

"I..." I didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. "I, yes, Prim. You're okay. I'm here." Tears blurred my eyes, but I couldn't think of anything else Katniss-y to say. What would I tell Nudge if, God forbid, this happened? "Um...you're safe, and I love you."

I wasn't sure she heard me, although her eyes half closed, and her head relaxed. I could barely breathe past the lump in my throat as I felt warmth slowly draining from her body. Prim was the most innocent among us, she was young, she was supposed to be dealing with boys and school and ordinary drama, not here in the dark with a killer and no sister to protect her. As the healer's breathing fell silent, vivid images filled my mind of what I would do to Felicity when I found her, of stabbing her, strangling her, shooting her, throwing her down the stairs**- **

"What happened?" said Dylan. I looked up- he was watching me from an adjacent hallway.

"What do you think?" I snapped, placing Prim gently back on the floor and standing. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" asked Dylan as I dragged him down the hallway.

"To get the weapons." I clenched my other fist, rage boiling through my blood. "We're going to end this, right now."


	15. Wicked

Dylan and I hurried back towards our room. He seemed on the verge of saying something- he was fidgeting even more than usual.

"What is it." I snapped. I didn't have the patience for any more of his dithering- we might have grown closer during all of this, but enough was enough.

"It's just- what if we're wrong about this?"

"What, it's not Felicity?" I laughed. "Who else would it be?"

"Maybe there's someone else in the house." suggested Dylan.

"The house has been searched, Dylan, there isn't. Oz's security system, remember?"

"But they have the ring, and it's a big house, and no one found Golem when we looked..." He began walking backwards to face me. "And let's think about what we know. It's someone with a connection to you, because they put the weapons under your bed, and with Malfoy, you said it was like he was pulled off of you-"

"Or Felicity could have been trying to frame me with the weapons." I said. "They were under Oz's bed, too, so unless they're connected to both of us, it's probably a frame job."

"I guess that's true, too, although I don't know why she would expect me to believe it." Dylan said as we approached our doorway. "Who was in Oz's room? Maybe it was one of his roommates."

"He roomed with Glinda, and Katniss and Prim." I said, pulling open the door to our room and walking in. "And we know they aren't responsible."

"Maybe they aren't actually dead." Dylan said. I paused in feeling around under the bed to give him a look. "Hey, I mean, I read this mystery novel once, Ten Little Indians or something-"

"Yeah, but you're my roommate, and you're not the- oh, crap." Crap might not have been the word I used here. Yes, the feathery Maximum Ride swears, I'll admit it.

"What is it?" Dylan asked.

I stretched further under the bed, trying to feel every corner. "The gun's gone. Oh, no. The gun's gone."

"Are you sure?" I felt him slide under beside me.  


"Yes, because I'm pretty sure she hit Prim over the head with it, that's the only way-" A gunshot boomed from somewhere in the house, and both Dylan and I jumped and banged our heads against the bed.

"Oh, no." I said, pulling myself out. "No, no, no."

Dylan slid out, straightening his shirt, and said nothing.

"It's a trick. It has to be, Dylan."

"Or maybe not." said Dylan, standing. "Look, let's test my theory. We go investigate, we split up-"

I laughed. "Are you insane? That's just what Felicity wants!"

"Exactly." said Dylan. "If she's the murderer, she'll attack, we're both strong enough to subdue her on our own, and then we can get out of here. If someone else is, they'll attack us, same thing. Come on, Max, you were fine with it earlier. You said we could take her."

"That was before she got a gun!" I said. "This is crazy, Dylan! We're going to get shot!"

"We have superhuman agility, don't we?" said Dylan. "And we heal, we'll be fine. What else are we going to do? Wait for her or someone to come find us? And then what? Or what if they starve us out? Look, I know it's dangerous, but we don't have many other options, and anyways, since when have you been the one who wants to crawl under the bed when there's danger around?"

I stared at him for a moment. "You know, if you had said that to me before all of this..."  


"Sorry?" Dylan said.

"No." I said. "Don't be. Look, I, uh, Dylan, I know I used to hate your guts and you probably noticed-"

"Probably noticed." he muttered.

I glared. "Shut up, idiot. I'm just trying to say, well...thanks for doing this with me. If we get out of here, you're part of the Flock. You've more than earned it."

"Uh...thank you?" Dylan said, looking as though he'd just entered an exam he was completely unprepared for.

"And I'm not saying this means I believe any cliche romantic crap about you being my other half, because I don't, you're just a good guy, and I'm sorry for not giving you a chance after all you've done for me."

Dylan laughed. "Wow, who would've thought I'd ever see Maximum Ride apologizing to me?"

"Oh, shut up, it's just because we might never see each other again." I was incredibly happy he couldn't see my cheeks burning. This is why I hated apologizing in the first place. "I- look, we have something more important going on, let's just go."

"Fine." Dylan said, sounding impossibly smug. "Do I get a good luck kiss, too?"

I punched him in the shoulder. "No, moron, I'm not that sentimental. We'll make it out. We always do."

"You always do." Dylan said quietly, and I could hear a hint of something in his tone that I really didn't want to think too much about. Because I knew he had some sort of feelings, I did, but- now just didn't feel like the time.

"Uh, right." I took a step back. "Well, um, thanks. For all of it."

"You too." Dylan said. "See you around, Maximum Ride." He stopped in the doorway for one last look before he was gone.

I stood there for a moment, mind swimming, and then headed the opposite way he had gone. I tried not to think too hard about what had just happened. One, I was not some giggly teenage girl who placed boys above everything else, and two, the memory was only distracting me from staying fully alert. Despite my best efforts, however, I was still in something of a reverie when I heard another gunshot crack through the silence of the house.

"Oh no." I said. "No, no, no, no, no- Dylan-" I began running, sprinting towards the noise, hoping he was still alive and I could save him, because never mind the awkwardness, he was all that was left of the Flock, and without him I would have no one-

My feet tangled on something and I hit the ground. Slowly, I picked myself up, and looked back to see what I'd tripped over.

The body of Felicity Worthington was lying in the hallway behind me, blood still sluggishly leaking from a gunshot wound in her head.


	16. Cured and Salted

**Several theories are going to be proposed in these final two chapters, so I hope you'll keep reading until the very end!**

* * *

For a moment, I stared, uncomprehending. Felicity was dead. Someone had killed Felicity. And it wasn't me, and it wasn't anyone else in the house because they were all dead, so that left-

Dylan.

That bastard.

I began jogging, images flickering through my mind. Dylan, disappearing at odd times, showing up where he wasn't supposed to be, Dylan, always by the bodies before I got there, the first to show up both times Malfoy attacked me, Dylan, suggesting the murderer wanted to protect me, Dylan, talking about bird kids programmed to kill, Dylan, who shared the same room as me and had access to all of the weapons while making me suspect myself-

"Oh my God." I said. That bastard. That bastard! I'd trusted him, started liking him, admitted him into the Flock, and all that time he was the one at fault for everything, he was the murderer! And why? Malfoy was to protect me, obviously, but what about the others? Did he have some fantasy that if him and I were locked in the house alone together we would fall in love, and did he murder people to make it happen faster? Or was he just insane? But no, this was Dylan, he wouldn't kill me, so that meant...he wanted to keep me in here with him forever?

"Dylan!" I shouted. "Dylan, come out here, bastard! Come out here so I can kill you!"

Dylan, predicatably, didn't respond. He was probably stalking me in the shadows, waiting to tie me up and...oh God. I stalked towards my room. Hopefully I could get ahold of a good weapon in time, and if not, I would kill him with my bare hands. I was capable of it, especially if I could get the gun away from him. But I was going to kill him, for Glinda who'd be so kind to him, and Mortola, who had been the first to fight back, and the strong Queen, and Sirius who had recently redeemed himself, for Eowyn who had a husband back home. Because none of them deserve to be murdered for some mutant stalker's sick plan to get me to love him- Tom and Oz and Fenoglio, who had all been trying to keep us together, and then Tom had died alone and Oz had been hunted down and Fenoglio likely hadn't lived to figure out who it was. Gollum had been protecting the ring, his dream, Katniss had fought so long to keep her sister alive and finally failed, and the Hatter hadn't even known where he was. And Malfoy, who had almost gotten it right, and Prim, even younger than me, and Felicity Worthington, a force of nature until the end...I could feel their deaths powering me, injecting rage into my blood and strength into my steps until I could've flown down the hall if I'd had the room. By the time I reached the room, our room, where we'd schemed and talked and napped and stressed, I was so angry I nearly kicked the door in.

"Dylan." I said, walking over to him. He was kneeling by the weapons, leaning his forehead on the bed. "Dylan, how could you?" I roughly pulled him away from the weapons, but instead of fighting, he flopped onto his back.

He was covered in blood, some leaking from a bullet hole in his forehead, some from scratches all over his face. As my eyes trailed down his body, I nearly vomited. He looked like he'd been dropped in a shredder- he had knife wounds everywhere, including a deep one on his neck, and his clothes were dark red and ripped to shreds. And lower, right where his chest met his legs...

I did throw up then, right on my bed. It did not help the stench.

Dylan was dead. Worse, he'd been mutilated. Murdered, brutally. But why? And by who? There was no one left in the house, except-

"Oh my God." I said. "I am the killer." Dylan was right, with his crazy mutant theory. I had been doing it, and not remembering it all along. Although I thought I'd heard two gunshots, one for Felicity, and one for Dylan...but what if I was remembering it wrong? Or what if I was just imagining it, altering my memory out of some weird self-preservation instinct? Maybe all those times when I thought I was somewhere else when someone got murdered...maybe I was really killing them without knowing why. Maybe it didn't even stop there. I might've killed Fang, too, and wrote that note myself, or the rest of the Flock, and imagined the telepathic conversation. Maybe this whole thing was some sort of School-drugged dream and I'd never escaped them, I was strapped on a table somewhere about to wake up and-

_Ok, _I thought, _calm down. Focus. _My heart was speeding way past healthy birdkid levels, my breath was coming in short bursts that did not help clear thinking. I didn't know what the hell was going on here, but I could at least take a moment to think things through before freaking out. Who could be the killer?

One, me. I decided to put that one away for the moment, because I didn't need another panic attack. Besides, if that were true, I didn't have much control over the situation anyways. I could try to kill myself, but I didn't know how effective that would be at this point.

Two, someone else in the house. We had looked, before they stole the ring, so it would've been very difficult for them to hide, unless they could turn invisible some other way. Still, it was possible we could've missed them. The house was large, and dark. But who, and why? Dylan said it seemed like they were connected to me somehow, but I could not think of a single crazy killer I knew that didn't also want to kill me. So why? Why protect me from Malfoy and give me the weapons?  


Three...someone was faking death. But we'd checked all the bodies pretty thoroughly for a pulse, and Dylan and I had carried most of them ourselves. Unless Dylan was faking...but he had no reason to, and he looked pretty convincing from here.

So it was either me or...someone who was not me. I would have to search the house to find out, as quietly as possibly, maybe by remembering some of Katniss's techniques. If I found someone, I would attack, and if not, I would end things a different way. I grabbed the still-bloody knife off the ground. Either way, I would need it.

I stepped out of the room just as I heard another gunshot, this one deafening. I raised my knife, and then felt a searing pain in my chest. I looked down- there was a bloody hole where my chest had been. "Oh." I said, and fell over.

The world swam in and out around me as I struggled to take in a breath. I thought I heard someone shout my name, and maybe "No", and then I looked up and saw-

-but it couldn't be, it wasn't possible-

The darkness closed in on me, slowly overtaking the pale, distressed face above me. "You bastard." I whispered, or thought I whispered, and then all my thoughts were gone.  



End file.
